Coexistence is Boredom
by Sakurazukamori6
Summary: A new deathnote. A new plan for world sanctity. And an entirely misled Catholic clergy. Raito and L take their respective places on the sides of their own justice. A final battle waged in the Garden of Eden. LRaitoL. For a Brief Moment.
1. L'erreur Humaine

**A/n:** This story takes place after Raito gets his memories back, but for the mere sake of fun L leaves the handcuffs on for a bit longer. I understand the AU element, but bear with me. So readers will be dealing with a fully cognizant Raito, who wants L very much dead, while he's handcuffed to him. Enjoy.

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_--The Human Error--_

This was the final stage of his plan.

Raito had come out of his ordeal innocent, and y_et_ L had not released him from the bonds that forcibly tied them together. He knew it was because the detective had such a stubborn streak when it came to his theories, and even if there were a buildup of evidence that said otherwise, he was not letting him go.

When it came down to it, L trusted his instincts, and it aggravated Raito to no end since this particular stubborn trait of his kept him in the spotlight as main suspect. Whatever he did it was never good enough. L had a one track-mind when it came to him, like no one else was good enough to be considered Kira, which should have been gratifying, but plainly put, was extremely annoying.

It was incredibly aggravating to be so close to your goals, and yet have them still out of reach, where even the tiniest nudge in L's favor might completely upset the power balance of this case. It was during these times that he had to be most careful.

But Rem, who he had once thought as capable (more capable than Ryuuk anyway) was acting very strange, which was completely upsetting his plans!

After L's interrogation -- which he remembered was somewhat of a disaster on her part -- she continued to remain outside the building. He supposed Rem had sensed the hazards in the detective's questions, and as she did not want harm to come to Misa, or more suspicion, she chose to avoid the situation all together, even if she was now bound to him via ownership.

She was supposed to kill L for him, but since he had not been able to tell Misa to resume judgment the last time he saw her -- L's constant presence was so bothersome! – the blond was completely safe. The motivation for Rem to use the deathnote on L was no longer there, which in turn forced Raito to wait for another opportunity.

Spitefully watching the shinigami behind tinted glass as she circumvented the building like a bleached vulture, Raito was suddenly jolted back to the present by the jingle of metal.

"I've never seen anything like it," he heard L say beside him, his face only two inches away from the glass, those humongous eyes glued to the soaring death god. "It's almost like flipping on the discovery channel."

Raito had the urge to snort, but he suppressed it into a smile. "I hope it comes back into the building. If we're lucky, it might even feel sociable after an hour of flying around."

He did not know what had triggered L, but he soon felt the pressure of those eyes bearing down on him. Raito, not the type to ever back down, met that stare head on, and even offered one of the many disarming smiles in his arsenal. "We should return to the others. I don't think we should be taking breaks at a time like this, Ryuuzaki."

L was still staring at him, but he soon turned away as if he'd lost interest. "It's not a course of taking breaks, Yagami-kun," he said, and abruptly walked over to the couch, Raito unwillingly tugged along.

Sitting in that peculiar fashion he had, L pressed his thumb pensively to his bottom lip. He again turned that gut-wrenching stare on Raito. "It would be wise to test the deathnote," he posed; thumb moving absently over his mouth, but eyes not betraying the focus he had pinned him with.

"But Ryuuzaki," Raito said, with false shock, "that would be just as bad as Kira. Murder is murder any way you put it." The firmness in his voice made L's eyes widen in something akin to amusement. Raito hated that condescending look. It was a gaze that plainly said, _'Oh, Raito-kun is putting on quite a show.'_

"Even with the headway we could get into this investigation, you are still opposed to testing it out?"

No. He wasn't going to fall into something as stupid as L's wordplay. Even if L was suggesting that he was opposed to the idea _because_ he was Kira, the detective was still grasping at straws.

"I'm still opposed. It's not right, Ryuuzaki. There's a moral obligation that we have to uphold as the investigators behind this case. You should know that," Raito chastised, with a tone that could put his mother to shame any day of the week.

"Yes...I guess you're right." L fixed the floor with a lesser version of his stare. He looked almost cross-eyed for a second as his eyes rolled over the carpet, like impossibly black marbles pitched across a smooth surface. L dropped his head back against the sofa's cushions and rolled his neck to the side without a hint of stopping.

"I was sure Raito-kun would agree with me," he said, a feigned sigh in his voice. He did not offer more on his thoughts, but Raito knew there was no need to get bent out of shape. L was just feeling depressed over the case and taking it out on him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, concerned voice taking on the tone of someone put through the L-ringer on a daily basis. Occasionally he needed to display his own frustration for not solving this case -- even if it did do his heart some good to see the detective's momentary surrender. "Don't tell me you're getting depressed again. You shouldn't just give up like that, Ryuuzaki. Have some heart." He sat down on the couch's arm and placed a hand over the detective's shoulder.

L's head lulled away as he gazed at him with more focus than the comforting hand on his shoulder called for. Raito smiled, showing no signs of being bothered. Although, it did put some tension in his chest; L's gaze didn't just gloss over when he looked at you, but pierced right through. It took some time getting used to, but Raito was no pushover when it came to psychological warfare. He was more than capable of holding his own.

But the way L was gazing at the hand on his shoulder made him rethink the gesture. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to --"

The feel of thick hair, as L lulled his head in his direction, caused Raito to stop what he was about to say. He heard the detective sigh and then watched him tilt away again. "It's good to have a friend like Yagami-kun. You always cheer me up," he answered in that completely oblivious way that you knew was fake because he could never be oblivious.

Raito gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder, removed his hand and felt himself internally slump at the reminder that L liked to play his own games too. Now this had never escaped his attention, but it still rubbed him the wrong way to have someone messing with him so blatantly, and yet so casually, that it couldn't be easily discerned from the detective's normal mode of conversation.

He was always toying with him, always saying and doing things that went against each other. The night-of-the-living-dead bastard was very convincing, especially when he had said not too long ago that he thought they were "friends."

_Friends?_

_'Hmm, excuse me while I go vomit.'_ It was what had been turning around in his brain at the time. For such a "touching" statement to be thrown his way, he could only deem it as a gambit. L was trying to trap him. He was good at manipulating people, but so was Raito.

Raito was very good at manipulating people. Why look at the splendid job he did of grooming Misa into a one-man cult following. It was pure perfection the way he handled her, and it would be pure perfection the way he handled L. Even if he had to use the same methods he used on Misa to corral L into a corner.

Misa looked up to him as some sort of god. It had been winningly easy to sway her opinion in his favor, but L would be complicated, as he had his own set views that would not allow simple brainwashing like it did with Misa, or anyone else for that matter.

Nothing simple would do for L. _But_ L did share something in common with Misa that he could thoroughly take advantage of.

He was interested in him.

Misa was interested in him for the understandable reason that she thought he was perfect boyfriend material, and L's reasons went along the line of fascination for an opponent and a potential suspect.

Misa was love starved for him so she would do anything, while L had an interest within himself that would practically do anything to find out who Raito Yagami really was.

Out of these two paralleling emotions, one was romantic and the other might be purely intellectual curiosity. But there was always a deeper emotion behind extreme feelings as these, and from that, Raito planned to exploit the strange mix of a relationship he had with L.

To do that, he would have to work with an aspect of L's personality that made it easy to undermine. There was weakness somewhere within the world's greatest detective. Now that weakness might be harder to spot because L hid it so well, but it existed.

His current methods had been to change L's opinion of him by being friendly, but there was only so much he could do with politeness. He supposed he wasn't being "friendly" enough. He had to offer something stronger to throw him off, and the only thing that came to mind after friendship was…

Love, the eternal human pitfall.

L's suspicion might be at the forefront of anything he did in concerns to him, but there still existed overlaying doubt as to whether Raito Yagami was Kira. L was human after all, and despite his amazing insight that seemed clairvoyant at times, he didn't have all the answers.

Doubt would exist in his heart, the human error existed within all people (well except him), and however L distanced himself, he still needed the support of those around him. At times L did turn to him for support. Sometimes it was as superficial as skin, never anything solid, only a nudge. But L had been a bit more trusting during the Yotsuba case. Raito was confident that his oblivious persona at the time had confused L and made his innocence seem more tangible.

Therefore, this was the best time to strike -- when his innocent-laden eyes and emotional actions were still fresh in L's mind. Now would be the best possible time to put a different kind of pressure on the detective, a more humanizing one that would make him even more ambivalent.

It would buy him time to rethink his strategies for sure, as L would be too focused on trying to analyze his behavior. The detective believed that he was Kira. Therefore, to crack open this case, L undoubtedly held the belief that if he figured out the type of person Yagami Raito was, then this case would be practically solved.

It was only a matter of time before L's profound curiosity got the better of him, and when that time finally came, Raito would be sure to be there so he could watch him fall.


	2. Serpent à deux têtes

_--Two-headed Serpent--_

L curled into himself when he was sleeping, and he stayed that way until he twitched awake, like some crack addict (really there was no better way to describe it) and rolled out of bed to go find his sugar-cup. Raito would also have to roll out of bed then, as L gave no warnings, and he would likely find himself on the floor and being dragged to the surveillance room if he ever depended on the detective for one.

"Would you like some tea, Yagami-kun?" L precariously balanced his spoon between his index finger and thumb, the polished silverware tipping back and forth in the fashion of a seesaw.

It reminded Raito of their current situation.

"Sure" Raito answered, even though he would rather coffee.

"Would you like a muffin, Yagami-kun?" he offered again, and Raito knew the other's eating habits well enough that he could tell when L was trying to shoulder-off unwanted food on him. Probably not sweetened enough for his liking, Raito thought.

He replied with a "thank you" and then took the muffin from a small platter. Upon waking, he had wanted something with a bit more substance than mere tea and muffins, but getting the detective to his feet and to the kitchen was more trouble than it was worth.

Raito turned in his chair just in time to see L poking at one of the pastries, and from the way he was playing with it, it appeared like he found it as unappetizing as Raito did. He withdrew the fork, glanced over at Raito and then nudged the tray over to his side of the desk.

"Do you like scones?" L asked, in his childishly "unhanded" way of getting Raito to notice the unwanted item and whisk it away.

_'Do you like asbestos?'_ Raito wanted to ask in return, but kept his mouth shut. He had once thought offhandedly, with no real intention behind it, to simple poison L's food. It was a ridiculous train of thought brought on by months of irritation and a poor diet.

Then again, it was looking more and more appealing as the seconds ticked by and L continued to nudge the scorned pastry in his direction.

"Man, I'm bushed." Even without any visible persons in sight, Matsuda Tota still earnestly expressed his idea of exhaustion. The volume on the camera monitors had been lowered so as not to disturb them as they had breakfast, but Matsuda's voice still cut through the pleasant silence, heralding the reinstated detective's arrival.

He came down the stairs causally, just as he would on any other day, but stopped dead in his tracks when he realized that the two of them were staring at him.

Raito had wanted to spend more time alone with his adversary, as his plans were only to be used in L's presence. It was too risky to "sweet talk" L in front of Matsuda, even with the man missing half a lobe.

"Ah, hi guys." Matsuda straightened and passed a hand self-consciously over the front of his neatly pressed shirt.

"Good morning, Matsuda-san," Raito greeted, for the good graces of his reputation, and L's uninterested rudeness as he had turned in his swivel chair and immediately went back to eating.

Matsuda smiled at Raito, looking like he was about to come over, but the voice of his father speaking to Mogi filtered through the impressive set-up of technology that L used to monitor the entire building. Raito watched Matsuda turn towards the stairs to await his father.

He had guessed some months ago that Matsuda felt misplaced whenever he was alone and in their company. Raito had also come to the subsequent conclusion that_ most_ people did feel uncomfortable in their joint presence -- well with the exception of Misa. Although Misa was an exception for just about everything.

Matsuda, waiting like a docile puppy at the base of the stairs, greeted the two other members of the investigation team with a cheerful "good morning." Aizawa had entered shortly thereafter, a grimace firmly set in place as he fixed his tie and dismounted the stairs.

Oblivious to his mood, Matsuda swooped directly into his path and cheerfully greeted his co-worker as he saw it unfit to leave anyone out. Aizawa proceeded to brush past him and strike up conversation with the chief.

It was turning out to be a normal morning, and as each man gathered around the two at the head of the room, a phone began to ring. Hunching over in his chair and reaching a long arm into his back pocket, L retrieved his cell.

It was common knowledge that the only person who ever called L was Watari. They knew the older man stayed in the building along with the investigation team. However, they never saw nor heard a peep from him until he chose to reveal himself. A ghost, they all agreed, would have been easier to find wandering these halls than the man himself.

Raito watched L speak into the receiver, a repetitive amount of vague "yes" and "no" responses following the long pauses in between. This routine went on for about five minutes. L tilted his head to the side, offering more of an ear to the receiver, and the motion would have gone unnoticed, if the curious expression on his face had not garnered everyone's attention.

There was another longer pause as L pressed his chest to his raised knees, the detective, as if tethered to his spot by nothing more than rope, leaned forward careless of the consequences. He looked so immersed in his phone call that if he fell out of his chair face first, Raito doubted he would notice.

"I'll be waiting," L finished, returning his cell in one smooth motion to his back pocket. The absorbed expression on his face also disappeared from sight, leaving in its wake something that Raito did not think he could correctly place. L looked troubled, but there was the hint of another expression that called to his attention much more than the obviously conflicted one.

He knew such an expression from the detective was never a good sign. It meant either clues were piecing themselves together, or new evidence had been introduced.

Raito prayed it was not the latter. It could not be helped if L pieced together the clues he already had in his possession, as it was impossible to keep him in total darkness, but those clues were minor and would not single him out as an immediate suspect.

He believed he had overlooked nothing in his daily recount of information that each side possessed. But he would have to reexamine the clues he had mistakenly left behind, see wherein his fault lay, and then snip it in the bud before repercussions were dealt out.

He really did need time to rethink things, but to his dismay, Watari had slipped into the room without warning. Raito was somewhat peeved at the quickness in which he had found his way over here, but pushed it aside to concentrate on more pressing matters.

The elderly man, striding into the room with black oxfords, a trimmed suit, and briefcase, halted in front of L, who had waved his fork at him, the silverware smudged with whip-cream, and the act reminiscent of a conductor giving the starting signal for his orchestra.

Watari snapped the clips on the briefcase open and took out a file. Raito eyed the inconspicuous manila folder with concealed interest. For Watari to be handling paper documents so cavalierly there had to be a great reason behind it.

"Watari has brought something to my attention," L began, like none of them had been in the room while he had his lengthy phone conversation. The other man remained silent, eyes closed, but standing as alert as a guard dog.

L opened the folder, glimpsed through it, and intentionally set it down to his left, where Raito presided. Raito did not comment. He could have punched L for the silent insult, but instead kept his hands neatly folded on his lap.

"The second kira _may_ have been found," L said, without any real weight behind his voice, his words sounding casual, even when such a topic was anything but.

Raito caught the strange tone, but he could not be bothered by it, not when L had declared the second kira had been…_found_

Despite this startling news, he composed himself and reacted accordingly. "You did? How did you -- that's great Ryuuzaki!" Surprised and then relieved -- he acted them out perfectly in both voice and expression, even with this new revelation tearing at his innards. Pausing for even a second would transform the thin ice he had been skating on for months to cloud with suspicion and shatter. He could not doubt himself this far into the game.

Gasps of surprised had followed. Everyone in the room looked to each other in disbelief. Then when the shock of the situation was pushed aside, they all burst into questions.

L made a desist motion with his fork and the concerto of noisy men stopped. He took a distracted sip from his cup as he glanced over at the investigation team, and even with the blasé attitude he was showing towards this news, he still sought their full attention. Raito had noticed some time ago that L was quite the attention hog, who did not enjoy speaking over others.

Raito could not understand, for the life of him, why L was treating this revelation as if it were some chore, and he was he fast becoming very irritated by it. What was his purpose for taking such a tone with them? Like he would rather drink tea than get right to the heart of the matter.

_Then__ it hit him. _

It was stupid of him to miss the answer when this was not the first time he had encountered the symptoms of this apathetic state before. L was so fixated on the idea that he was Kira and Misa was the second Kira, that the fact that someone else may be threatening his theories was a huge slap in the face. L's attitude alone confirmed that this news had absolutely nothing to do with him or Misa.

"As I have said before," L continued, "the second kira _may_ have been found. Though I call him the second merely to distinguish him from Higuichi. As you all know I do not actually believe Higuichi to be the genuine first Kira, but to not confuse ourselves, we will title him as such." He took a sip of tea, and behind the rim of his cup, Raito noticed the corners of his mouth twitch. The detective had begun to push the folder that sat between them towards Raito, and the fair-haired teenager gave L a quizzical look.

"If Yagami-kun would do the honors." L had seemed to recover from his mood, which probably had more to do with the simple reminder that his main suspect was still handcuffed to him, and less to do with the resolution of clashing theories.

"Don't keep us in suspense," L encouraged, as he hurried him along.

There was a chance that this had been arranged in order to lure a certain reaction out of him, but L would never use the same method twice.

"Ryuuzaki, I think you're the one keeping us in suspense" Raito countered, masking the poison on his tongue while simultaneously pushing the folder back to his side.

But if this wasn't a trap, then who was the poor bastard that L had pegged as the "second" Kira…?

L accepted the spurned folder with no hard feelings. He lifted up a corner and glanced inside, sighing out all the while, "but I wanted you to be the first to see the fruits of my labor." Despite the "crushing" disappointment in his voice, L resumed with his explanation.

"With the unmasking of Higuchi as Kira, my backing for this case has tripled. Countries that were not cooperating prior have made moves to contact us. Many nations have loaned out a hierarchy of their policing agencies, and from this support, Watari was able to set up a network of surveillance teams consisting of the FBI, the Surete Nationale, Kriminalpolizei, Departamento de Polícia Federal, the C.I.A., P.F.E.W., Interpol, the list goes on.

"This morning our contact from the French city of Toulouse, in the region of Midi-Pyrenees, spoke to Watari about information concerning a supposed Kira."

_France!_ L knew the second kira was _not_ in France. He knew this. There was irrefutable evidence pointing this out, and yet, here he was contradicting himself. L knew that both kiras were Japanese, so what were his motives for going against his own theories.

Was he becoming desperate, or were his backers pressuring him for results?

L had watched a confidentially tapped UN meeting two days prior complements of Watari. He had seemed to have no problem with letting him also watch. Actually, the detective had even gone so far as asking his opinion several times during the course of the video.

And by the looks of things, the UN was frantic. Even with the deathnote on hiatus, the lull seemed to be putting them more on edge. The members had argued for more than an hour about "lax execution policies." They had even started giving the esteemed title of "Kira sympathizers" to certain persons within the hall.

L had become bored very quickly, and had actually started making small talk with him. At one point, they had struck up a conversation about classes that Raito wanted to take at the University.

L stopped stirring his tea, took out a paper from the manila folder and held it gingerly up by the corners. "This was faxed to our private line by the contact. He _believes_ this to be the 'second' kira."

Raito watched the black and white photo of a man who he estimated was in his late forties. Looking more closely at the picture, he noticed the interesting architecture in the backdrop.

"The man in this photo has been identified as a Mr. Ignatius Corentin Boucher. Mr. Ignatius," L started up with a queer expression, "is apart of the clergy responsible for the French pilgrimage site Lourdes."

"Are you serious?" Matsuda asked, and looked to his fellow investigators for a response. Everyone else remained silent, waiting anxiously for L to carry on.

L laid the picture down on the table and pensively resumed stirring his cup. "The only reason we were able to single out Mr. Ignatius was because he had come forward on his own. The contact, through his resources with the police in that area, was introduced to Mr. Ignatius and given full rights to oversee the investigation into this matter."

Raito thought it a fine time to cut in and end this nonsense. "I hope this isn't all you're going on. We've come across many people claiming to be Kira, and all they've been good for is a laugh and a trip to the asylum." Raito did not enjoy being messed with. L knew this, and yet here he was making him jump through hoops for an answer.

"If you would not interrupt me," L said calmly. "I have said that our contact _believes_ him to be the second kira. Obviously, I do not hold the same opinion. The second is here, in Japan. That has not changed."

"So what are you trying to say?" Raito stood up from his chair and stared down at him.

"I do not believe Mr. Ignatius is the second Kira. He is just an unfortunate priest who knows more than he should about _certain_ matters, as he went to the police not to turn himself in as a criminal, but in preparation to turn over a certain _item_."

Raito bit the inside of his cheek.

There was only one thing that would be more important than Kira himself, and that would be the device he used to become God.

"Mr. Ignatius has plainly said he possesses the weapon Kira uses. This is what he told the French authorities. To our contact, however, he called it by its rightful name, the deathnote. He has also told our contact in a taped conversation some of the constituents that make up the deathnote. I have yet to hear the tape, but Watari has and I trust his judgment."

L pressed his thumb to his mouth thoughtfully. "He says it was given to him for 'safe-keeping' by one of the pilgrims visiting the church. The pilgrim was very adamant about leaving the deathnote with a priest, and so Father Ignatius was handed the book under the oath of confessional."

L slumped in his chair. "I do not know if I believe that story, but he has sought us out with knowledge that he should not have. He has also sought us out with the intention of handing over the deathnote."

"So this guy is just gonna give it to us, just like that?" Aizawa shook his head, as if to answer his own question.

"He's made it very clear that he does not wish to keep it. He wants someone who he can put his trust in to come forward and take it off his conscience. However, if no one comes forward, he will go to the Vatican. Now I may not like the way he approached us, but if it is indeed the deathnote, I cannot allow it to be locked away in the Pope's vault. I've come to the conclusion that I will meet with Mr. Ignatius and negotiate with him face to face."

Yagami-san spoke up hastily from behind his son's chair. "But what if this man_ is_ the second kira? You're putting yourself at unnecessary risk. You should send in a proxy…or get a team to storm –"

L cut him off with a shake of his head. "I could very much incarcerate Mr. Ignatius. But if he turns out to be another kira that would rather kill himself than tell us the whereabouts of his deathnote, then that notebook would be lost to us. I do not want to take that chance.

"I _must_ have it," L said, with enough conviction in his voice to kill any uprising argument. "I must have that deathnote to ascertain if ours has been tampered with."

Raito internally frowned. It hadn't taken him long to suspect the fake rules.

L wasn't looking for a kira. He was looking for another deathnote to get his hands on. If multiple kiras existed, then of course the thing that made them kira would also be in replicate. He figured that out the moment he was handed the deathnote and saw the shinigami attached to it.

Ryuuk had told him that shinigami sometimes accidentally dropped their deathnotes in this world. But what were the chances that one would surface at such a convenient time. It was this very reason he doubted the possibility, but then how could this priest know about the existence of a deathnote?

There had to be more to this than L was letting on. A deathnote without a shinigami couldn't just be sitting in France waiting for them.

Could it?

Raito couldn't deny how provocative it sounded. If it were real, he would definitely have some use for it, but so would L. If the detective got his hands on it before him, and found out about the fake rules…

He would be in some serious trouble. There wouldn't be simple lock-up and 24-hour surveillance to look forward to this time around. There was a very good chance that L would torture him.

Raito didn't know how he would hold up against torture, but he wasn't willing to find out.

The hands in which that deathnote ended up were still uncertain. L would have to bring him along as he was his main suspect, and he would never leave him behind. That would defeat the whole purpose of everything L had done up to this point, and he was too stubborn to allow something like that to happen. L would take him to France and it would be there that he would get his chance.

He would have one chance, only one chance in which to gain the deathnote from this Mr. Ignatius. However, the difficulty would lie in getting this scenario by L while he was practically breathing down his neck. That was where his challenge would be. Being handcuffed to L created many problems, but it also gave him a solid alibi. Higuchi's execution had been a winning example.

In the end, L would help his cause out more than he realized.

**

* * *

****All places and organizations are real. Definitions taken from your friendly neighborhood Wikipedia:**

**1. ****Surete****Nationale**** --** now called the National Police. It is one of the two national police forces in France.

**2. ****Kriminalpolizei**** --** detective branch for the German police, often shortened to Kripo.

**3. ****Departamento**** de ****Policia**** Federal -**- Brazilian Federal Police.

**4. P.F.E.W**-- Police Federation of England and Wales. (I turned it into an acronym, which I realized was a bad idea because it sounds like some sneezed.)

**5. Toulouse --** is a city in southwest France on the banks of the Garonne River. The Toulouse metropolitan area is the fourth largest in France and one of the fastest growing in Europe

**6. Lourdes --** major tourist destination as a Marian city (A pilgrimage site). Today Lourdes has a population of some 17,000 inhabitants but is able to take in some 5,000,000 pilgrims and tourists from March-October. Lourdes has the second greatest number of hotels in France after Paris with some 270 establishments.


	3. À l'entrée du jardin d'Éden

_--Entry into the Garden of Eden-- _

Walking through a Narita International that was usually bustling with noise and activity, Raito felt displaced by the out-of-character quiet that had engulfed the airport. In Japan, the degree to which population was concentrated in metropolitan areas always ensured there would be busy intersections and equally crowded buildings, and yet the silence inside a major channel for people going in and out of the country was staggering. It was enough to make him skittish. L, on the other hand, seemed to not be in the_ least _bothered by it.

"Is this really necessary? It would have been much easier to use a private liner than commandeering a commercial one." Raito, following L in proper order -- as it seemed this man enjoyed leading him around -- was only able to make out the shrug of shoulders as the detective promptly dismissed his question.

"It's nothing to get over-zealous about, Raito-kun. So please relax," L told him flatly and continued on his merry way through the terminal. Raito glared at his back, but kept his mouth shut.

As they turned the corner and headed to the eastern side of the building, the sudden entrance of sunlight from the high windows that ran the perimeter of the building caught his attention; turning his hair into an almost straw color. By contrast, it had made L's hair seem darker, shining black like the desks where personnel would usually be stationed.

There was a need to interrogate L for the strange behavior he was exhibiting. Raito knew L took chances. It seemed to be in his blood to do the extreme whenever it fit in with his purposes. There was no questioning that he had put his life on the line many times for results, but L, like any normal human being, practiced the necessary amount of precaution. He would not do things to publicly draw attention to his whereabouts, yet here he was, seizing a sizable amount of government property that would not go unnoticed by the public eye, and his only answer for such things was a simple shrug.

Watching L stride in and out of the slanted bars of morning light streaming across their path, and through the dust motes waltzing in that same clear brightness, Raito felt the vacancy in a part of his brain lift.

Obviously, L possessed a healthy amount of fear for his life. However, he also had an abundance of pride that far outstripped his careful nature. He was a bit of showoff too, trying to prove that he was fully in control of this case, even when he was pushed into a corner more often than not.

If L wanted to hijack Japan's largest International Airport for a day and use one of its chartered planes for his own purposes, then the government would have no choice but to be compliant. L got what L wanted. He had made that painfully clear with this stunt of his, and Raito could only assume he was the intentioned target of that message. He did not know under what percentage he was currently marked as Kira, but even if it were .1 percent, L would not pass up the chance to put some pressure on him.

Checking around the terminal, and unable to find any familiar faces, Raito assumed the investigation team had already boarded. Watari had not escorted them to the plane, but had left them in the car -- probably to check the surrounding areas for anything suspicious.

In spite of this, he had yet to return, so it should not be too far off the mark to assume a man with sniper capabilities would take full advantage of the many high outlooks over this terminal. He was probably observing their procession through the scope of his gun right about now.

So when Raito saw Watari walking out of an unmarked gate with a German Sheppard at the helm, he was again annoyed by this man's unexpected entrances. Watari was always sneaking up on them, so the brunette was convinced that L had an ex-assassin in his employment.

Approaching with the bomb-sniffing dog, Watari came to a halt in front of L, while the dog charmingly sat down in front of the detective, waving its tail excitedly back and forth.

Raito had once wanted a dog.

He had a soft spot for them, as they were animals, and animals were completely different from human beings. Animals did not kill out of pettiness, or jealousy, or hatred, but for the purity of self-survival.

He amused himself with the ridiculous thought that if he had _truly_ wanted a utopia, he would have gotten rid of all the humans and left the animals to coexist.

That would have truly been something else. However, he had never claimed to be a misanthrope. He only had the desire to pull this world up from the dregs that it had fallen into. He believed there were good people out there, like him. But good people who had no power over their fate were only that -- good people without a purpose.

This world could not be changed by mere good will alone. Someone had to pitch it off the corrupt and complacent axis it had traveled for all these centuries, and that someone would be him.

"Do you mind if I pet him?" Raito asked, reaching out a hand before he could stop himself.

"Go right ahead. I think _Raito_ would appreciate it," L replied, without missing a single beat, and his hand halted before he could touch the dog.

**"…"**

"You… named him _Raito_?"

There were many things in this world that Raito could outwardly tolerate, as he had always prided himself on being a calm person. But this was utterly --

"_She_ needed a name, and I happened to like yours," L said prosaically. "Plus she answers to it."

The dog wagged its tail energetically and then licked the unmoving hand in front of her nose, as if she knew Raito was the person that she had been named after.

Collecting himself, Raito kneeled in front of the dog and passed a hand firmly over its neck. He turned warm coffee-colored eyes on L, and informed him, in that completely BS way he had, "I'm glad you like my name that much." Raito stood up and fixed the detective with a gracious smile.

There was something _very_ wrong about L naming a female dog after him, and knowing the detective, it was his very roundabout way of calling him a bitch.

How mature.

"I like many things about Raito-kun, not just his name," L said, and at the same time, he was turning in Watari's direction to confirm the all clear for their destination. The older man began to lead them to a concourse on the other side of the building.

"_Raito _will be accompanying us on this trip. She came on provisional loan from the NPA and has been very helpful during the boarding process. She's _very_ smart," L said, with a serious face that his tone proceeded to readily mock and contradict.

Raito knew when he was being baited, but damn L was freakishly good at pissing him off.

"I'm glad you're having so much fun, Ryuuzaki," Raito answered tartly. He might tolerate the stupidity, but it did not mean he had to like it.

L gave him a sidelong look. "Don't be mad at me, Raito-kun. She's just smarter than your average dog."

"**…**"

"But she's really nothing like the person I named her after," L contemplated, as he kept those fathomless eyes on him. "For one, she's very obedient."

Raito raised an eyebrow and met the detective's stare.

One of those small, creepy smiles that L liked to aim his way whenever he was about to do or say something especially irritating lifted the corners of his mouth in silent amusement.

"_Raito_ also rolls over when I ask, doesn't bite when I reach my hand out, and is really very sweet."

There was a word for situations like this, and even though L might not intentionally mean it that way, Raito still knew what a good case of sexual harassment sounded like.

But his irritation to the teasing had drastically abated with the sudden opening he was given. He had not forgotten about his plan to be 'nicer' to L, but it was a difficult thing to get the detective in the mood for small talk. Today, however, seemed different.

Raito gave L an exasperated look, and then softened it to show the detective that he was over his bad mood. "I don't bite either," he responded, and kept his tone neutral, as he was inviting enough trouble with such a statement. There was no need to hold out his entire arm along with the bait.

"Sometimes you do," L answered back, response time slower than usual. He might believe Raito was only teasing him in return, but that pause insinuated at other reasoning.

When they had reached the entrance to the plane, Watari dutifully stood off to the side and allowed them first entry.

"I've never flown first-class before. This is so cool." Matsuda's voice, ever active over the other members of the team, was the first thing they heard as they walked down the aisle. He had proceeded to kick his feet up on the seat in front of him, and Aizawa, the unfortunate recliner in that chair, promptly shoved them off.

Mogi had earphones on and the CD-case that read French-lingual keyed them into what the quietest member of their team was up to. Yagami-san had been sitting quietly in his seat, but when he caught sight of his son and L, he immediately turned his full attention on them.

"I take it everyone is comfortable." L glanced from each member, but his eyes stopped on Yagami-san when he caught the uncertain look on the man's face.

"Ryuuzaki," Yagami-san started up, "don't you think this is a bit ah --"

L put his hand up to stop the older Yagami, as the acorn did not fall too far from the tree, and if Yagami-san started up with him, his son would not be long in following. "Don't worry, Yagami-san. It won't kill the national budget," L said, face devoid of any expression. Then without warning L tottered off to go find his seat, leaving Raito the job of consoling his father with a quick, sympathetic smile as he was dragged behind the detective.

L did not sit with the others, but found a secluded spot on the other side of the walkway and several seats behind, with a clear shot of the investigation team if the need arose to check up on them.

He also took the window seat.

"Is this Raito-kun's first time out of the country?" L asked. Raito was momentarily distracted by Watari, as the man was already pushing a desert cart down the aisle. He began unloading saucer after saucer of deserts onto the detective's small retractable table. Then he poured tea for both of them, setting the teapot on L's side before moving onto the others.

When the clattering of plates could no longer drown out his voice, Raito answered, "yes, this is my first time out of the country."

"I would have thought you'd been on a student exchange program."

With his intelligence, he could get into several, but he had no need for travel right now. Maybe in a few years time, when he had recreated his ideal world -- maybe then he would feel up to task of traveling through_ his_ kingdom.

"I've never had the time with cram school." Raito gave his answer a touch of regret and waited to see how L would react.

"But it wouldn't be too much to expect Raito-kun to know _some _French," L said, while adding sugar cubes to his tea.

_Some French?_ Who did L think he was speaking to?

_«J'espère que mon accent n'est pas trop pire.»_ (I hope that my accent isn't atrocious.)

_«Bien entendu, l'accent de Raito-kun est sans faille.»_ (As expected of Raito-kun, his accent is very good.)

_«Et selon ton accent, je peux dire que tu as été en France précédemment.»_ (And I can tell from your accent that you've been to France before.)

_«Le gâteau est très bon là-bas.»_ (The cake is very good over there.) „Aber mein deutsch ist besser." (However my forte is German.)

_„Ist es? Mein Deutsch ist rostig."_ (Is it? My German is rusty.)

L dropped more sugar cubes into his cup._ „Möglicherweise sollten wir einen Abstecher unternehmen."_ (Maybe we should take a side trip.)

_„Das klingt lustig."_ (That sounds like fun.) _«Mais n'êtes-vous pas en train d'oublier quelque chose?»_ (But aren't you forgetting something?)

_«Je n'oublie pas la France, mais je devrais un jour amener Raito-kun à Berlin. La ville est magnifique lors de cette saison.»_ (I'm not forgetting about France, but I'll have to take Raito-kun to Berlin one day. It's very scenic this time of the year.)

_«J'adorerais cela.»_ (I would like that very much) Raito said, with a smile that could charm the spikes right off a sea urchin.

He knew he had a disarming smile, the kind that could soften a person's guard and break their resistance, and L did not appear exempt from this category. Even with the detective having such a difficult personality, the quiet earnestness and sincerity that Raito could convey with just his smiles alone always seemed to strike a cord with him.

The detective might be done in by an Achilles heel for a pretty face, and if his flirting with Misa could suggest anything, it certainly did point this out as a reasonable conclusion.

L studied him for longer than necessary, and Raito felt the weight of that stare bear down on him before lifting and transferring its weight towards his teacup. Then he heard him say, as if he were talking to himself, "Raito-kun makes me want to take him everywhere."

Raito could readily take it as teasing, as the detective was the sort of person who always liked to turn his comments back on him, but there were times when L would be completely frank with him. This felt like one of those times.

"Would Raito-kun like to do me a favor?" L asked out of nowhere.

He picked up one sugar-cube and stopped before dropping it in his cup, instead choosing to turn it between his long fingers, a gesture that Raito had seen him do on more than one occasion. "My French feels a bit awkward and I do not want to seem incompetent when I appear before Mr. Ignatius."

_«Mauvais? Ton français est très fluide.»_ (Awkward? You speak French very fluently.)

_«Ce n'est pas un problème d'élocution. Mes qualifications conversationnelles sont un peu problématiques.»_ (It's not a case of fluency. My conversational skills are a bit lacking) L added, and finally dropped the sugar cube into his cup.

_«Et puis, de quel sujet voudrais-tu discuter? Je suis une personne plutôt ennuyante.»_ (Well, what would you like to talk about? I'm a pretty boring person.)

_«Ce n'est pas vrai. Je suis très intéressé pour tout ce que Raito-kun dit.»_ (That's not true. I'm _very _interested in what Raito-kun has to say.)

_«Devrais-je prendre cela comme un compliment?»_ (Should I take that as a compliment?) Raito asked, trying to steer their conversation in a place that would make flattering remarks come easier.

_«Si vous voulez, mais quand je parle français, je donne l'impression de courtiser tout ce qui est à proximité.»_ (If you want, but when I speak French, it makes me sound like I'm hitting on everyone within the vicinity.)

"**…**"

Well…that was unexpected.

_«Comme c'est… charmant.»_ (How…charming.)

_«Beaucoup de femmes ici ne pensent pas ainsi.»_ (Many women over there don't think so) L said, spoon now pointed up in the air.

Raito leveled him with an amused stare. Awkward didn't even begin to run the gamut of problems L had -- or claimed to have -- as Raito was quite sure this informal chatting was just another excuse for L to profile him.

_«J'étais sarcastique. C'est vrai que tu es vraiment mauvais pour le badinage.»_ (I was being sarcastic. You really are bad at small talk.) Raito leaned on the armrest between them and openly stared at him.

_«Même le sarcasme de Raito-kun semble gracieux en français.»_ (Even Raito-kun's sarcasm sounds pretty in French) L said, matter-of-factly. _«Je devrais juste abandonner et laisser Raito-kun traduire tout pour moi. Sa voix est très plaisante.»_ (I should just give up and let Raito-kun translate for me. His voice is very pleasant.) L paused and then asked out of nowhere, _«Avez-vous déjà chanté dans un choeur, Raito-kun?»_ (Have you ever sung in the choir, Raito-kun?)

What an odd question.

_«Non, je ne crois pas que mon école avait un choeur pour garçons.»_ (No, I don't believe my school did have a boys' choir.)

_«Quel gaspillage,»_ (What a waste,) L said. _«Vous auriez fait un bon alto.»_ (You would have made a nice alto.)

Humph. Alto, he says.

There were two tones that Raito switched out of daily. One was his actual voice, the inside voice that he had only used with Ryuuk, and the other was his voice an octave higher than it should be. This was the voice he used with everyone else, including L.

He did not miss the sleight against him, but if Raito didn't know better, he'd swear the detective…was hitting on him; and that was just plain ridiculous, since he was trying to hit on L…!

Neither did Raito miss the attention he was garnering from his father, the man currently watching them. It did not surprise Ratio, as it was his father, and this type of behavior was expected. His dad was a worrier, and if one of his children were within visual range, the man would keep watch like a hawk until the danger had passed.

The current danger was Ryuuzaki. It did not matter if his father trusted L with his own life, when it was the life of one of his children, there was no question whose side he was on.

Also noticing the fatherly attention, L turned to Raito and spoke up; not caring if the older Yagami heard him, as the perks to speaking another language in front of non-speakers was the privacy you were guaranteed.

_«Votre père semble terriblement suspicieux. Est-ce que j'ai fait quelque chose de mal?»_ (Your father's being awfully cautious. Did I do something wrong?)

_«Peut-être sait-il quelques mots de français,»_ (Maybe he does know some French,) Raito teased. _«Il trouverait cette conversation assez particulière.»_ (He might find this conversation very _peculiar._)

_«Il ne semble pas trop fâché.»_ (He doesn't look angry enough.) L got a sour look on his face that Raito only saw when the detective was eating something he didn't like, or was forced to participate in things that "tainted" the_ prestigious_ L name.

_«Devrait-il?_ (Should he?) Raito found that expression much more agreeable than the infuriating half-smiles that L could aim his way.

_«Oui, Soichirou-san est très protecteur de son fils et de sa famille.»_ (Yes, Yagami-san is very protective of his son and his family.)

_«Je suis désolé pour Sayu. Lorsqu'elle vieillira et voudra un petit ami...»_ (I feel sorry for Sayu when she gets older and wants a boyfriend,) Raito threw out casually.

_«Votre soeur est très jolie.»_ (Your sister's very pretty) L responded back, just as casually.

_«Tu sais, tu ne devrais pas dire de telles choses devant son grand frère.»_ (You know, you shouldn't say such things in front of her older brother.)

L taped a finger to his bottom lip. _«Raito-kun, vous ne ressemblez pas du tout à vos parents ni à votre soeur.»_ (Raito-kun, you look nothing like your parents or your sister.)

_«Peut-être ai-je les traits d'un parent éloigné.»_ (Maybe I resemble a distant relative.)

_«Vous avez définitivement un visage qui n'a rien d'ordinaire. Avoir quatre petites amies doit bien signifier quelque chose. Vous avez des traits uniques.»_ (You certainly have a face that stands out. Having four girlfriends must mean _something_)

L, the _conniving_ -- No, he had to remember that L was using this moment to throw him off balance, and get certain reactions out of him. This was just another attempt to get under his skin and see how he ticked.

Raito frowned outwardly. "You told me you set up cameras in my room, but you never said you were digging around in my personal life as well."

_«Raito-kun, rappelez-vous votre français,»_ (Raito-kun, remember the French,) L reminded him while smoothly responding, _«Et je ne serais pas un bon détective si je ne l'aurais pas fait.»_ (And I wouldn't be a good detective if I didn't.)

Raito pretended to be embarrassed. _«Mon père sait-il?»_ (Does my father know?)

_«Tout le monde le sait. Raito-kun est un vrai Casanova.»_ (Everyone does. Raito-kun's a regular Casanova.)

Raito's frown deepened. _«Tu sais, je voulais te demander quelque chose depuis déjà un certain temps, mais je n'étais pas sûr si je devrais.»_ (You know, I've been meaning to ask you this for some time now, but I wasn't sure if I should.) He paused to feign composing his thoughts. _«Tu m'as dit que des caméras avaient été posées dans ma chambre, mais as-tu également -- »_ (You told me cameras were set up in my room, but did you also --)

L cut him off before he could finish, since he knew where this was going. _«Je les ai faites installer dans chaque chambre de votre maison.»_ (I had them set up in every room of your house.)

Raito's eyes widened in fake shock. _«Comment as-tu osé?! Ma soeur et ma mère -- pour qui vous -- »_ (How could you?! My sister and my mom -- who the hell do you --)

_«Calmez-vous Raito-kun. Votre père m'a donné la permission de le faire et vous devez comprendre que c'était pour une bonne cause. Votre famille n'était pas la seule à être observée.»_ (Calm down, Raito-kun. Your father gave me permission and you have to understand it was for the good of the case. Your family wasn't the only one being observed.)

Raito continued his indignant charade. _«Misa avait raison quand elle t'a traité de pervers.»_ (Misa's right when she calls you a pervert.)

_«Voyons, voyons, Raito-kun, il n'y a aucune raison de devenir méchant avec moi.»_ (Now, now Raito-kun, no need to get nasty with me.) L stirred his cup, appearing to have not a care in the world.

_«Je ne peux m'empêcher. Vous avez tous regardé ma soeur et ma mère dans la douche!»_ (I can't help it. You watched my sister and my mom in the shower!)

L stopped stirring. _«En fait, j'ai laissé cela à Soichirou-san. C'est seulement vous que j'ai observé dans cette douche.»_ (Actually, I left that up to Yagami-san. I only watched _you_ in the shower.)

_«Comment exactement espères-tu me rassurer en disant ça?»_ (That's supposed to make me feel better _how_ exactly?) Raito really had to take a moment and applaud his acting skills. They were getting better and better as the days passed.

It was only right to get angry at this turn of events, as any normal person would be horribly disturbed by this news. He would carry on this act for a few more lines, and then he would become resigned.

_«Peut-être aurait-il été mieux que je ne vous mentionne rien de cela, Raito-kun. Des fois, j'oublie votre tempérament.»_ (Maybe it would have been for the best if I hadn't told Raito-kun. I forget that you have quite a temper.)

_«Tu as un sacré culot.»_ (You have some serious nerve.) There was a fine line between acting and just out right saying what he wanted, as that last statement had been him at his most honest.

_«Ah, maintenant, Raito-kun est encore plus fâché contre moi.»_ (Now I've made Raito-kun more upset with me.)

Raito sighed deeply and looked to the floor. _«Regarde -- peux-tu seulement tenter de voir tout ça selon mon point de vue? Je suis désolé de t'avoir crié dessus, mais--» _(Look -- just, can't you see this from my point of view? I'm sorry I yelled at you but --)

_«C'est compréhensible.»_ (It's understandable) L said without a smidgen of sympathy in his voice. Then he had the nerve to slurp his tea.

_«Mais en vous observant dormir, j'ai pu mieux comprendre votre état psychologique.»_ (But watching you sleep, I could better understand your psychological state.) He slurped his tea some more. _«Vous avez un visage si paisible quand vous êtes assoupi, que j'ai pensé qu'aucune personne dormant aussi sereinement pouvait être coupable.» _(You have such a peaceful countenance when you sleep that I thought no guilty person could sleep so soundly.)

_«Admets-tu finalement que tu avais tort?»_ (Are you finally admitting you were wrong?)

L stared directly at him and told him, as if it didn't bear the slightest consequence, _«Non, je mentionnais seulement que Raito-kun dort comme un ange.»_ (No, I'm just saying Raito-kun sleeps like an angel.)

Boldly returning L's stare, Raito fired back his conditioned response for each time L vocalized his suspicions. _«C'est parce que je suis innocent.»_ (That's because I _am_ innocent.)

They quietly stared at each other for a minute.

Then L broke the silence by loudly slurping.

Seeing it as a fine time to discard his petulance, Raito tried to strike up conversation again. And fourteen hours later, with seven cups of tea, an unfathomable number of cakes, another disguised argument in French, and a nap in between, Raito was quite sure he had handled L's subtle interrogation flawlessly.

He was dozing when he felt someone prod him in the side, and Raito responding with a noncommittal "mmhm?" shifted so he could see the detective.

"Raito-kun, we're flying over Paris," L told him and pointed to the window. "The view would have been nicer at night, but it's still worth taking a glimpse at. Do you want to see?" L asked him, and Raito rubbed his eyes (not at all necessary), and leaned over L without appearing to give it a second thought.

Of course he understood what a compromising position this put L in, and L would know what he was getting himself into, so why in the world, Raito had to ask himself, was L so resolute to put himself in such a situation.

The view was certainly breathtaking. The layout of the city reminded him of a massive and orderly garden, olive green trees sectioning off and bordering tan-colored buildings, which from the aerial view he was afforded, made them look like a portion of a garden that was left unplanted.

And at the center of it all, the Eiffel tower stood tall, like a slender tree with black bark. It dominated the landscape, separating itself from the greens and browns without disrupting any kind of harmony within the city, all surrounding structures appearing to be drawn in and tempted, but still not encroaching within its territory.

"It's a shame this isn't a trip for sightseeing." Raito could feel the warm press of L's forearm against his stomach as he leaned over the armrest and looked out the window. "Well I guess it's good enough that I get to see it from this angle," he continued, tone longing.

He had noticed upon waking that L had already arranged himself so his feet were on the ground and his lap was free for leaning-over purposes. This move was obviously premeditated, and L wanted him to know that, for reasons that were starting to become very clear…

It took Raito less time to act, as he was motivated by the recurrence of L getting the drop on him before he could make an offensive move. He hated being on the defensive. It always threw his rhythm off and it was high time L was taught how to follow instead of lead.

"Wow, is that Les Invalides? I can actually see the top of the chapel dome from here." Raito inclined forward out of false excitement, and as expected, his stomach pressed into L's lap.

Raito felt more than heard the quick intake of breath from L and noticed the clench of fingers on the armrest. L's eyes had gone wide, and if possible darker, the grayish ring around each pupil thinning further.

There was a hint of surprise fogging the rich dark color, but Raito knew it was more surprise for the sensation of getting a certain part of your anatomy rubbed up on than surprise for his actions.

"Ryuuzaki?" he asked out of the counterfeit concern that he had patented with L. He pulled back so he was no longer in front of the window, but still hovering over that lap, his face still near the detective's.

Raito, playing the fretful friend card again, asked, "Something wrong?"

L flicked his eyes over to him, inclining his head in his direction. His head tilted slightly to the side, and his eyes stared down between them, before coming back to rest on Raito's face. _«Je ne l'avais encore jamais remarqué, mais Raito-kun est encore plus mignon de proche»_ (I never noticed it before, but closer up, Raito-kun is even cuter) L said, changing back to French.

He had expected some sort of smart aleck response, or an immature, disguised insult. He had expected many things, but L openly hitting on him -- he had not expected that.

However, his adaptability would not let the comment faze him, and the spiteful thought of 'that bastard worked faster than him' was the only thing to make it through his brain, before he acted accordingly.

_«Ton français est-il sérieusement mauvais ou tu tentes vraiment de me draguer?»_ (Are you really that bad at French, or are you intentionally hitting on me?) Raito asked, not giving L a chance to brush this off.

_«Français mauvais ou non, Raito-kun, je ne supporte pas l'indécision, alors ou vous retournez à votre place ou vous vous asseyez définitivement sur moi.» _(Bad at French or not Raito-kun, I don't enjoy fence-sitting, so it's either get off my lap or climb on) L told him, smiling cutely, evidently proud of how he was giving him the run around.

_Heh._ L was some piece of work. Of course he wasn't dumb. He would have figured this out for what it was the moment Raito had leaned over him; and his own prompting of these events with his little 'lean over me' bit had the brunette certain L was baiting him on to see how he would react.

There was nothing surprising there. L didn't have a naïve bone in his body, but what L did have was a propensity to doubt and be unsure of himself when it came down to his theories. L would second-guess the motivations behind his behavior, and his purpose for being so overtly "friendly" could very easily be explained away by other means; may it be a simple case of teenage hormones, admiration taken to an extreme, even love -- whatever L wanted to supplement in for why Raito was flirting with him.

Anything and everything would do except, of course, for the original intent.

Raito glanced over at the investigation team, making sure that everyone was fast asleep.

"You know, you shouldn't say things that you can't commit to" Raito whispered and had gone back to Japanese.

L's eyes rolled up like he was thinking, and then they rolled back down to stare unaffected at him. "I don't think I would have any problems committing to you," he told him matter-of-factly.

He was smooth only when he wanted to be. Raito had to give it up to L, he sure knew how to get on people's good side when he wanted to, and Raito would definitely have no problem putting out if L kept up the generous act with him.

Biting his lip and giving him an almost shy look, Raito put a hand on the detective's forearm; however, a wakeful snort coming from the front of the plane wrested his attention away from L and towards Aizawa.

The man was peeling away the sleeping-mask from his face, and rubbing his temples, like a migraine had set in.

"Ryuuzaki, you shouldn't hog the window seat" Raito projected, and kept his gaze on the other waking members of the investigation team.

"Sorry, Raito-kun," L said, playing along, "if you want, you can sit _here_ next time." L pointed in his own general direction. However, it could not be determined by the detective's gesture whether Raito would be given the coveted window seat to sit in…or his lap.

By the way L's tone seemed almost_ too_ helpful, Raito could infer that the detective was alluding to his lap.

**

* * *

****A/n:** I'd like to thank Savina Terriot for the French translations. She helped me out a lot. 

**1.** Alto- the highest singing voice for a man, achieved by using _falsetto_.

**2.** Les Invalides- Listed as one of the tallest churches in Paris, the gold-capped dome is easily distinguishable from the skyline. Consists of a complex of buildings, all relating to France's military history, as well as a hospital and a retirement home for war veterans. It is also the burial site for some of France's war heroes. The most notable tomb is that of Napoleon Bonaparte.

**3.** Approximately, there's an eight hour time difference between Japan and France, so in Japanese time, since the investigation team left around 6 am, they would have arrived in France at around 8 pm. But converting it to French time, they actually arrived in Paris at around noon.


	4. La pomme

**A/n:** There is sex in this chapter, so those who do not enjoy that sort of thing, just a heads up.

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* * *

__--The Apple--_

"We've bought out the last three floors and left the previous ten to the use of the other patrons."

Sitting at the head of the room in a tanned-leather, high-back chair, L rested his hands on his knees and peered at the unenergetic men taking up the two large sofas in front of him. While to his side, Raito sat, casually perched on the arm of his chair and looking for all the world completely contented with himself. The living rooms in this new hotel were given quite a spacious décor, and with this luxury of space, it had been discovered as soon as everyone had taken seats, that the couches were out of comfort range for a handcuffed Raito. Therefore, the brunette had naturally taken the next best thing and parked himself on the arm of his chair. However Raito, L realized, had a way of making even the most trivial of seating arrangements look inherently princely.

L had half a mind to shove his 'royal highness' right off his arm-rest and make him stand, as there was something almost defiant about the way Raito was cavalierly balancing in his spot, one arm slung over his crossed legs and the other behind him so he was leaning most of his weight on it.

It could be he was being too hard on Raito; the many frustrations that came along with this case did make him grumpy. However, L was extremely sensitive to the undercurrents of emotions that flitted under his patrol, and Raito could be as nice and sweet as a kitten to him, but he could not hide the superior and snobbish attitude that lay awake and coiled under his pretty words and gestures.

Not that he could do much about that right now.

"You will wear civilian clothes going in and out of this building, as I would rather we all try to blend in with the other patrons. Please also try not to call attention to your nationality. If you must speak to a staff member, please call Watari."

But he'd soon be forced to deal with this situation when the rest of the investigation team retired to their rooms for the night.

"You four will split into groups of two when leaving this hotel. Yagami-san and Mogi-san will be the first group and Aizawa-san and Matsuda-san will make up the second --" L was stopped from giving out anymore basics of hotel etiquette when a "dammit" from one of the men on the couch interrupted him.

Matsuda, looking to the man across from him, asked "hey, what's that supposed to mean?"

Another "dammit" followed and L cut in before he had to tell both Aizawa and Matsuda to shut it up.

"Anyway," L continued, "I know you all must be tired, so please get your rest and we will reconvene here at seven sharp." He dismissed them all by way of a bored looking stare that plainly said "go away now" and everyone was more than happy to comply, as they tiredly filed out of the door.

Watari, getting ready to escort each man to his room, bowed to L before closing the door behind him and locking it with a solid click.

There was a pleasant silence following the departure of the investigation team, and L glimpsing over at Raito, found that he was not fazed in the slightest by this quiet. Even after such a talkative plane ride, there was no residual weirdness existing between them. Of course, they were both sportsmanlike enough to not let a little thing like flirting get in the way of how they appeared in front of the other members, so neither had attempted to bring up the matters of their previous conversation. They both knew they would be given the chance in due time to figure out the other's diversion, so a ceasefire had been temporarily raised until they could get some time alone. However, who would strike first had been left up to the person with the stronger mode of attack, and L had wanted very much to be that person, but he was also in very bad need of more contemplation time.

"You must be tired?" he asked, not at all interested in Raito's answer, but making small talk to move things along.

"Traveling is exhausting," Raito sighed while rubbing his neck in what L supposed was a good imitation of being worn-out.

L highly doubted that he was really tired, the sharpness in those eyes hinted at otherwise, but if Raito was going along with his suggestion of an early night, then L could use the alone time.

"Raito-kun's internal clock must be thrown off because of jetlag. You have to be careful to avoid exhaustion." L put on his best lecturing voice and watched Raito out of the corner of his eye as they began to make their way to the bedroom.

"Mmhm, of course, I'll be careful," Raito answered gently, voice sounding far away, even with him now standing on the other side of the bed they would be sharing tonight and getting ready for sleep.

Facing away from Raito, L rested down on the mattress and curled into himself. He finished their little banter session with a "please do" and waited for the slight dip in the mattress that signaled Raito was finished changing for bed.

"Good night, _L_," Raito said faux-politely and in such a sugary tone that it would have rivaled any cake L had ever taken apart. He had sensed his need to get some alone time, and he was being "gracious" and giving it to him, like he could care less. Raito was too much of a pompous prick sometimes, but it was always so much more fun to knock him flat on his ass when he was copping an attitude with him than when he was threading cautiously.

"Sweet dreams, Raito-kun," he responded, and closed his eyes in mock sleep. He hated how obvious his tactics were this time around, but it could not be helped.

Raito had actually startled him with his behavior on the plane. They could tease each other stupid for hours on end, but teasing and flirting were completely different things. One could perhaps be seen as leading to the other, but when he teased Raito it was more for kicks than any ulterior motive. What Raito had done was not for kicks. He was plainly serious -- his voice, his expressions, his gestures...they were all premeditated and that bothered him.

_If_ Raito Yagami was Kira, he would use that god-given intellect of his to make himself an exception to the rules that were set down in front of him, and since L very much held his life in his hands, Raito would naturally come after him. There were many loopholes in this case that Raito had escaped through, and there were many more ways for him to try and go about proving himself, of making himself an exception. But with L serving the dual function of both captor and judge, it seemed that Raito had gone about the task by making himself immune by association, or more bluntly, by trying to get his captor unconsciously on his side, by trying to lay down an identifier between them or a connection that would keep him out of trouble if used properly…

There was just one problem with that kind of thinking. The plan was too obvious. Any change in their dynamic would instantly call attention to itself, and Raito was smart, he would have instantly seen the major flaw in that plan. _Yet_, here he was, giving him go-go eyes and turning this investigation into his own little soap opera.

It just didn't make sense.

Raito had never shown any homosexual tendencies. He had shown a more than healthy fascination with the opposite sex, and even if it had seemed contrived the way he'd gone about with those girls -- the same as the bookshelf -- Raito was straight.

If this was the trick that he suspected it to be, then it did actually fit in with Raito's fondness for convenient "romances." He had inferred a long time ago that if the second kira, who had appeared very eager to come in contact with the first, was indeed Misa Amane, then the four-girlfriend-juggle would have been a very adept way at hiding her sudden appearance into his life. There was no better way to camouflage a pretty girl like Misa than to hide her among other pretty girls all under the guise of dating. It was a very smart move.

But L could not dismiss the fact that Raito was an eighteen year old boy. Eighteen was a very hormonal age for any male. Looking at the flipside of things, he knew Raito was very hard-working, very studious; it was not unusual for boys so academically driven as Raito to be late-bloomers, to put-off dating for extended periods until they actually felt an intense need to date and socialize. He would not skip over the consideration that Raito may have just discovered the pleasures of female company and had gone a little girl-crazy in the aftermath.

And if he was going to explore this very hormonal side, boys his age were very keen to sexual exploration. Raito could be playing with a whimsy and seeing where his actions could take him if he flirted with him. It could be a simple case of curiosity for something new. Raito was smart -- well that was a grand understatement; Raito was past smart and down-right prodigy level, and he could hide it all he wanted, but L sensed something jaded in the way he treated people. L had watched him go around with others his own age and it had been along the lines of smile pretty, get those around you to eat out of the palm of your hand, grow quickly bored with them after that, and then move on.

When Raito had gone to Aoyama with that group of "friends" he had gone about talking with _everyone_. Sure, Raito had been thrust into a situation that was far from normal, since that outing had actually been a sting operation concocted to catch the second kira, but in respects to how Raito treated people, there was no difference. To someone only looking at the surface, his behavior that day was normal teenage activity. But to someone looking deeper, the brunette had been careful to not _attach_ himself to any one of his "friends." He had casually chatted with everyone and had favored no one. You'd think as a teenager, who seemed to have a penchant to flirt, Raito would have stuck to one of the prettier girls, but no, not even.

All the other boys and girls there were sticking close to their crushes or a friend they had a common bond with, but Raito, like he was playing a game of musical chairs, had swapped out partners every minute. It could be that he was fickle, but the very real assumption could be he was bored. L could understand that reasoning. Being too intelligent wasn't always a good thing socially. Surely people envied you for your intelligence, but the envy stopped there when you couldn't even carry out a simple conversation with someone your own age and not instantly want to walk away immeasurably disappointed. Raito could be suffering from a severe case of boredom. His extracurricular dating could have been a move to alleviate that boredom, but the ease in which he handled four girls at once -- there was obviously no challenge for him there.

If Raito was seeking out another outlet to ease his monotony, then coming to him seemed like a drastic measure. Raito knew he liked girls, his subtle plays at Misa were obvious clues, and yet Raito still had the confidence that he would not be turned away.

For the humble person that he made himself out to be, Yagami Raito had quite the ego on him. That much was certain. L was also quite egotistical, so he'd developed a no-give policy when someone was threatening him, and the either/or dilemma he'd been drawn into with Raito's actions -- is he trying to charm you for the benefits of getting your confidence, or does he just want to mess with you for the hell of it? -- was a dual insult.

Either way, Raito was not taking him seriously, and as a detective of the highest caliber, he did not enjoy being taken lightly. Raito was overstepping his boundaries with him, and to L, that screamed challenge. He was not one to pass up a challenge, even if that challenge could very well get him killed or could obstruct the case. He was a very bad loser.

Raito was asking for nothing but trouble with that come-hither attitude of his. L could not deny that he had a _very_ unprofessional interest in Raito, but that fascination had been contained. He had made it no secret that he was impressed by Raito's wits, as it was certainly the first time he'd ever run across a person with such sharp insight and unflinching adaptability. He could admit that he enjoyed being around the brunette, even with one handcuffed to the other and the many inconveniences that came along. Interesting conversation was never lacking and it had been a first for him to actually find someone who he could agree with opinion-wise.

They were alike; he recognized that right off the bat. But Raito was also very charismatic, and if you did not believe in his opinions, he had very subtly persuasive ways of getting you there. A seemingly cheerful disposition didn't hurt the cause either, and the positive aura he gave off -- when he wasn't punching him in the face -- made it very easy for anyone to let their guard down around him.

And then on top of that winning personality, Raito had a face that could fool anyone right off a cliff and into their own grave. L sensed that Raito knew exactly _how_ good-looking he was, and also knew exactly how to work the nice smile and doe-brown eyes he'd been blessed with.

Both Raito's intelligence and looks elicited contradictory responses from him. From an investigatory standpoint, in which Raito was his main suspect, he was purely frustrated by the two, as they made his job more difficult. But on another level, he could show his appreciation for them. Having a good conversation partner a hands reach away was a very nice bonus, and despite the gender, it surely didn't hurt to have a nice face in proximity when he was taking a tea break. Not things he should be thinking about during this investigation -- he understood -- but he was only human. Moments of weakness could be allowed since they were only moments.

But if Raito was going to change their playing fields, there was no reason for him to not turn those moments of weaknesses into something constructive, and with such a willing target, it would be very easy for him to turn his many frustrations over this case into the sexual variety. Raito could very well be doing him a favor, even if this was deception on his part, L was level-headed enough to not be affected. Raito could take his interest in him anyway he wanted, but there would be no question about who would be leading who around. L would make sure of that. There was also nothing messy like love that could complicate the integrity of the investigation. Raito didn't seem the type that got sentimental over partners, even if he did like to try and make corny, dramatic speeches -- laughable as those were; it would be a superficial affair.

And while he was at it, L could get closer to Raito and study him in a completely different mental environment. Not to mention he would be getting the chance to rid himself of some nonproductive stress that had been plaguing him ever since Raito had come into his life. Really, this was a win-win situation for him. The only thing to regret was that Raito hadn't opened this option up to him sooner.

Turning on his side and glimpsing over at the person next to him, L found his resolve to go this route strengthen. There was a sliver of moonlight coming in through the partition between the curtains. It ran in a thin path down the right side of Raito's face, the streak concentrating most of its luminance on some strands of auburn and transforming them into an almost blond color. L reached out a hand and blatantly waved it back and forth over his face, so that he made that line of moonlight flicker.

A second later, Raito's eyes darted open. The column of light had captured the brown iris, softening the color into a melted caramel, while his other eye caught in the dark, had taken in the shadows of the room and dyed it a rich, blood red color.

That eye focused on him and narrowed. "What are you doing?"

"Seeing if you are asleep," L answered nonchalantly and removed his hand from above his face.

Propping himself up on his elbows, Raito eyed the detective carefully. "And why would you need to do that?" he asked, more curious than reproachful, as he waited for his response.

"If I told Raito-kun my reason, he might not want to go back to sleep," L informed him and waited for his opening to be answered.

Faintly in the darkness, amber eyes widened. Raito could more than get the implication, but he had thought the approach would have come much later. Not that he minded. He could definitely work with this.

"What happened to resting up for tomorrow?" Raito asked, mock-seriously.

"Well Raito-kun can go back to sleep if he wants," L paused and tilted his head so it was now resting on his raised knees, "But either way, I get what I want."

It appeared L was anxious to get the matters between them settled. It was nothing that should alarm him. His advances would not be too suspicious, as there were definite advantages to accepting his proposal for both parties, if L was assuming he wanted to fuck around for fun. Now the only thing expected of him was to positively respond to L's go-ahead and negotiate the terms between them. This was almost too easy. "So I'm to be assaulted in my sleep now?" he asked out-right, as they were no longer tip-toeing around the subject anymore.

"I've never been good at handling bodily frustration, and since Raito-kun is flirting with me, he should take responsibility," L reasoned.

"So it's my fault you can't control yourself?" Raito raised a challenging eyebrow and got himself ready for the smart-ass comment that should be rounding the corner. However, L completely dismissed the question with one of his cross stares that said he was not amused. Then he told him sedately, "we're both adults, so I don't think I have to explain any of my intentions to you."

L was obviously not in the mood to mess around.

Raito put his hands up in a placating gesture. "I understand. I'm not looking for anything serious either…" And even if it was after the fact, "…since I have a girlfriend that I am _actually_ serious about." Even if L suspected that this was a bold-faced lie, he would still need an excuse to see Misa after he was released from these handcuffs.

"Don't worry, I understand Misa-san's love for Raito-kun, and it would be unforgivable to get in the way of_ pure_ love like that."

L was so full of bullshit. If he really believed what he was saying, he wouldn't be trying to sleep with him now. Heh. L could take his pure love and shove it up his -- "So we understand each other?" Raito asked, as he inched forward and pressed a hand to his chest.

Looking down at the hand before following it back to the source, L locked eyes with him.

"Not shy, are you?"

"What about you?" Raito asked back and slid his hand up and behind L's neck. "I've seen four year olds with more tact than you," because seriously, L could be as subtle as a kick to the face sometimes.

"Raito-kun talks too much," L told him flatly, and with a lean forward and tilt of the head, he had brought his mouth to his. Raito recalled himself enough at that moment to not flinch at the contact, but he did not respond any to touch.

The kiss was soft, polite but not uncertain; a gentle brush of lips after a firmer press and Raito felt L slip away from him. Nothing was unusual or outstanding about it. Raito had kissed enough people to know how these things went, but he could admit that there was a strange ease to it. He'd thought maybe it would be more difficult, but he supposed this was just L feeling it out.

Weaving his fingers in the loose material at the neck of L's t-shirt, Raito tugged the detective forward and felt long-fingered hands at the same time trail up his sides, one settled on the small of his back, while the other was lost in the covers at his sides.

Raito softly kissed L this time and there was a split second of tenderness in that brush of lips, before L changed the angle of his mouth on his and Raito was thoroughly French kissed.

Well…they were in France, but damn where the hell did L -- and Raito was immediately sidetracked from that thought by the long tongue licking the inside of his mouth and curling around his own. The hand on his back groped at the fabric of his shirt, bunching it up and letting it go all in the same motion. Raito felt the skin there go hot and tense, and he tried to squirm out of the hold L had around him.

Making a disgruntled sound, L pawed more aggressively at his back. There was a pause in the kiss between them, as L sucked in a stilted breath and tried to keep him from getting away, and after another successful shift of the mouth, L was able to deepen the kiss, moist breath and tongue getting into the crevice under his tongue and behind teeth.

The way L had been sitting before he'd promptly shoved his tongue down his throat, one of his knees was now jabbing him in the hip, while his other leg was upright, toes digging into the mattress under him and gradually pushing up from the balls of his feet. The knee jabbing Raito in the hip shifted down until it was pressing his thigh into the mattress, and one of Raito's hands unwound itself from L's hair and grabbed onto the appendage.

He shoved the detective back by that hold and instantly followed after him, a hand slipping around L's neck again and pulling him forward with breathless insistence. His mouth brushed the corner of L's lip, and before he could turn it into a full-on kiss, he felt a foot catch him in the ribs. L somehow with his freakish flexibility, getting one of his legs to maneuver in the space between them and toes now burrowing into his stomach.

Raito was shoved back unceremoniously by that foot and landed on his back with a thump.

"Virginal kisses won't get me off," L told him and stood up on the bed, walking over to him like he was on the floor, and obnoxiously stepping on his leg in the process.

Raito felt toes curl around his thigh, the creak of the bed a solid groan as L stooped down between his legs with that one foot still trapping his leg to the mattress.

In response, the teen pressed a hand to the shoulder above him and held L at bay. "Foreplay not your thing?"

"No, I'd like to properly have sex with you, but my control is pretty shot for tonight. Raito-kun has no idea what he puts me through on a daily basis." L tried to lean over him, but Raito squeezed his shoulder in warning.

"So I'm supposed to roll over and beg for it?"

L watched him completely undaunted. "That's how most of my fantasies go, so I'd appreciate it," and with that, the other leg not trapping him kneeled down between his legs and began to nudge them apart.

Raito knew they'd both fight for top, and if this was a normal situation, he wouldn't have rolled over for _anyone_. But since this wasn't, and he was trying to play nice with L, he would have to swallow his pride and give L precedence.

However much it hurt, Raito had made up his mind to let L take him. There were reasons for their positions. Of course the enjoyment factor for L was a big concern, but more importantly, if he was given the chance to kill L in these up-coming weeks, it would be stupid to leave bodily evidence inside of him. The autopsy would be thorough and Raito would not be caught by such a mistake.

Of course, it wouldn't do to just give in without some type of bid for control either. It would be strange if Raito was too complacent, and surely L, despite his words, would enjoy a little disobedience than a straight fuck.

Raito shoved a knee up with the intent of making L fall back, but the detective intercepted it with the leg not holding down his thigh.

"That's not very polite. I thought you were nicer," L quipped.

The hold L had on him should have been awkward, with one foot on his thigh and the other leg blocking his shin and keeping the knee from slamming up into his ribs, but the detective had, somehow, successfully disabled the use of any lower body movement. If he wanted to, Raito could have gotten out of this hold, but since they were horsing around, to try anything serious would be uncalled for. However, he still clenched his fist to get a reaction out of L, and the detective not taking a chance as to whether Raito would lash out or not, shifted his leg up and stepped on the wrist of that clenched hand, while the other hand shot down between them and took the place of the leg that had been blocking his knee.

Raito stared up at the detective with a bored expression, even when he was anything but.

"Is this your idea of foreplay?"

"No, I'm trying to have sex with you, but you're not as easy as you look," L said, with a humorless tone that actually made it funnier than it should have been.

"I'll ignore what you're implying." Raito tossed some chestnut hair out of his eyes and then replied as an afterthought, "I can't feel my legs."

"I can't feel my shoulder," L answered back and looked at the hand gripping him there. "Remove it and I'll remove one of my legs and my hand."

"You're trying to bargain your way into my pants now?" Raito asked sarcastically, removing the hand from his shoulder and putting it behind L's head.

"If it could be done, I'd already be there," L replied, and for an odd second there, he got a really focused expression on his face before it instantly disappeared. Raito would have let the expression go under his radar if that look hadn't come with the sounds of rattling chains.

Looking up at the bedpost, Raito was very annoyed to find that L had somehow, within the two seconds that he had taken his eyes off his hands, handcuffed him to the bed.

"Getting something from the bathroom," L casually threw out and got up from the bed. Raito watched his retreat vexingly, but held in anything sharp, as he was just going to follow in L's lead and also take his frustrations out on him.

When L came back out, he gingerly placed a bottle of lotion on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the mattress. "I only handcuffed one of your hands, and the chain is long enough where it shouldn't impede any movement, so there's nothing for Raito-kun to be cross about," says the person who is completely free of handcuffs.

Raito knew how unsympathetic L was, especially in concerns to him, but this was a new all time low.

"Raito-kun has to remember that he is not cleared of suspicion, so the handcuffs will stay," and then, like he hadn't just outright insulted him, L slipped an index finger under the waistband of his boxers and began to tug them down.

Raito, not content to stay still during the undressing process, yanked L forward by the shirt and went for his ear. "I think this has more to do with your preferences."

L looked amused for a second before he said, "If Raito-kun is finished playing psychology major, could he lift his hips a little?"

The smell of something peach-scented wafted into the air, and Raito watching L ambidextrously uncap the bottle with one hand, pulled his attention away from that sight and began to lave attention on one earlobe. He heard the detective make a choked sound before he tried to elbow him away.

"I nearly dropped the bottle," he told him with some irritation.

"Mm-hmm," Raito hummed without an iota of sympathy, his tongue easing in and out of his ear and obviously not caring for L's opinion. Call it payback for handcuffing him to the bed or all the nasty little comments that L had gotten in on him for that past week -- he just wanted to piss him off.

"If Raito-kun doesn't want to be fucked dry, I suggest he stop that," L warned him and Raito could feel his erection against his stomach.

For someone who always acted so apathetic, L got cranky fast when he wasn't getting his way. In response to this, Raito blew in his ear and the detective shuddered heavily, dropping the bottle but thankfully after his fingers had been coated. Tugging on the cartilage at the top of his ear, Raito huffed out a sudden breath at the shocking contact of L's finger with a part of his body that was not used to any kind of treatment. It would be incorrect to say it hurt. Really, the only word he felt could explain what L was currently doing to him was…weird, as vague as that was. It was a bit uncomfortable, but not in a painful way, more like --

He closed his eyes and breathed out. It was intimate. There was no question about that. It was unsettling to have someone doing this to him, to have L this close, breathing on his neck and passing a hand over his back…

There were ingrained warning signals within him that wanted to shove L away, but there was another part of him that was curious. He'd never had sex before, and even if this was _not_ how he envisioned his first time, they were still going to have sex.

L was easing another finger into him and Raito felt the stretch. It was gradual with the slow, even way L was pushing up into him, but Raito felt that strange ache turning into a shallow pain. On its own, his body went tense, and he heard L groan quietly, like it was all too much to know that he would be inside of him soon. Raito felt his stomach involuntarily clench at that sound. He was a bit taken aback by how turned on he was and how much he wanted L to just do something, anything --!

He unknowingly jerked forward when he felt another finger, but was eased back to sit on the mattress, L's long fingers now hitting a certain spot within him and continually pressing against it.

He knew the prostate gland could be stimulated, but this intensely -- He could feel his erection asserting itself under that touch, that staggering pushing inside of him equally pulling at something in his erection. He couldn't help the sound of pure frustration when L continued to slowly prepare him, the probing still not enough to get him where he wanted to go, but not soft enough where he could ignore it.

After another good minute of fingering him, L slid out and pulled him away from his ear with a shaky breath. They were both breathing pretty hard by now, and through the fog of dense arousal, Raito was pretty sure he would enjoy this, even if he was going to be on the receiving end of things, L certainly was going to make it fun for him.

He had no doubts about that. L was smart, and he knew if he wanted to get _some_ on a regular basis, he'd have to get his partner to enjoy it. He'd surely make it worthwhile for him, so L, like the competitive bastard that he was, would more than likely live up to that all-around genius name he was so proud of.

"Get on your stomach."

Despite being severely aroused and everything on top of that, Raito still found the breath to huff out, "Not into romancing, are you?"

L put one of his hands on his hips and nudged him gently until he got him on his knees.

"I'll appropriately romance you after all the blood returns to my brain," L whispered and began to position behind him as he braced one of his hands on the mattress, the other skirting down Raito's chest and unbuttoning his shirt, one-handed and fluidly.

Raito's breath hitched when L's knuckles brushed against the head of his member, and he had to bite down the urge to groan loudly when L curled his long fingers around him and pumped him once. There was a simultaneous bitten-off gasp from behind as L began to ease into him, the lotion making everything slippery and giving another layer of feeling to already hyper-sensitive parts.

One hard shove had L completely inside of him, and Raito felt an unfamiliar stress climb up his spine and pool in his stomach. The hand pumping him, however, had quickly separated him from that other sensation, wresting him away from the lesser of intensity and making him focus on the immediate feeling of having his erection touched. He could hear L breathing behind him, a hint of voice stuttering out of him as he began to thrust into him, the motion rocking him back and forth and stimulating deep inside of him. He could now distinctly feel that other strange and distilled pleasure-point in his body shudder and sharply react to L intently pushing against it.

L had begun to suck on the skin of his shoulder, that wet sensation making everything under his stomach tighten and flush with more heat and blood. The thrusting had picked up, the hand on him moving in similar rushed tandem, and Raito could tell L was close just by the way he was bunching the sheets between his fingers.

But Raito had found he was much closer than L, the two-fold of pleasure, one- purely driven gratification, and the other- a bundle of hidden nerves that L was inciting, making him bite deep into his lower lip and squeeze his eyes shut.

A current that could only be closely related to annihilation ripped through his midsection, and Raito couldn't breathe for those time-splitting seconds as his orgasm hit him fiercely, that rush of too-much-all-at-once making him suddenly collapse on the bed, while the increasing movement behind him stole the reprieve he desperately needed.

L came some breathtaking seconds later, and Raito nearly bit through his tongue when L tangled one of his legs with his and made that knee swipe across the bed in widening, the stretch making him constrict even tighter around L and retching out the kind of sounds Raito was sure would have made any listener think he was killing the detective.

For Raito, the room was a bleary mess of spots and circles afterwards, his mind a complete blank, like if he tried to even recall his own name, it would slip through his fingers. It was a first for him, for sure, and it was both frightening and strangely liberating.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you." He heard L's voice, quiet and soothing coming from somewhere to his right.

He couldn't even recall when the detective had pulled out, too over-stimulated to the point where he was starting to feel warm numbness envelope nerve endings, and creating that sensation of slowly being drowned in sleep…Damn, if he wasn't careful there was a very serious chance of getting addicted to this sated feeling. He could hook L with it, but he could not trap himself by the same standards. Though there was nothing wrong with enjoying it when it was placed in front of him, but the problem would be in seeking it out for his own want. That would definitely be off-limits.

Lulling his head in L's direction, Raito stared at him tiredly through the fall of his bangs and prematurely made an attempt at coherency that went along the lines of, "Good god."

L, who was currently looking up at the ceiling, flicked his eyes over to him and got that amused look on his face. "I think I lost some IQ points." He drawled and rubbed his head like those supposed IQ points would be there. "I'll have to ask Raito-kun to give them back now."

Raito smirked at that. "What makes you think I took them?"

L shifted on his side, pillowing his head on an arm and practically cuddling into the mattress below. "I have a strong suspicion that Raito-kun is a succubus," he said out of nowhere and stared boldly at him.

Raito might be punched from the overwhelming sex, but it would be a rainy day in the Shinigami realm when he let L get away with that one. "An incubus, you mean?"

"I forgot which is which," L told him and closed his eyes. "Those lost IQ points are really starting to get to me."

Raito would have rolled his eyes if he had the energy.

"But its okay," L continued on, "tomorrow I'll just have to ask Raito-kun what he is," and then, when it almost seemed like he was finished, L peeked one of his eyes open.

"Are you going to blame me for something else now?" Raito gave him a look that dared him to try.

"No, I was just going to wish Raito-kun a good night."


	5. Planter les graines

_--Planting Seeds--_

They were an hour late for the morning meeting that should have started at seven sharp, but really had been allocated to the timeslot of eightish.

No one had said anything about the tardiness, except for Matsuda (always Matsuda), who laughed at their inability to get to a room on time that was right outside their bedroom door.

The meeting commenced at 8:23 and ended at 9. It had mainly revolved around Miss Wedy's surveillance of the Lourdes Cathedral and Mr. Aiber's evaluation of the familiars that came in and out of the church.

L had said both Aiber and Wedy would be given more time to scope that area out before any action from their side would be taken. But he had also made it clear that if given the chance to cut corners, despite the risk involved, he would speed up the reconnaissance so he could meet with Mr. Ignatius sooner. He estimated that in three days he would be paying Mr. Ignatius a visit. There was general surprise from the investigation team, but everyone knew how determined L was, so there was only a minimum amount of protest, most of it coming from Yagami-san.

Then L delegated out tasks. The team of Yagami-san and Mogi were to meet up with the contact, and through him, arrange a conference between L and Mr. Ignatius. The group of Aizawa and Matsuda were to remain at the hotel and keep watch through surveillance cameras the Lourdes pilgrimage grounds. They were also given the task of keeping in contact with Mr. Aiber and recording the information that he passed onto them.

L had left him for last, as to be expected. But instead of turning around and telling him the specifics of what his job would entail, L had walked off towards his right-hand man, dragging him along in the process.

"Did you bring the things I asked for? I'd like to get started right away."

Watari suddenly proffered a simple, black duffle bag.

"Good. Can you please hand that over to Raito-kun," L instructed and did that annoying thing where he would walk off without giving the third party any explanations as to what was going on.

Raito took the bag graciously. "What's in this?" he asked, as the chain between them finally ran short and he was pulled forward.

L sat at a desk, set apart from the rest of the investigation team and conveniently stocked with cakes, a tea tray, and his laptop. "Whatever Raito-kun fancies," he replied, as he pulled his feet up on his chair and reached over for a fork.

Raito settled the bag on the desk. By the weight and shape, he could guess there were books inside, but one could never tell with L.

"Something better not jump out at me," he joked -- but not really. He opened the bag, looked inside the dark interior and reached in to pull out a massive book. He rested it on the desk and began flipping through it clinically. "So…" he began pensively, "when were you planning on telling me that you'd chosen me to be your proxy?" Raito asked, continuing to flip through the pages and skim through text.

"Raito-kun is sharp."

There was only one reason why L would give him the Bible: he wanted him to be prepared to speak to Mr. Ignatius.

"You're making fun of me if you think I wouldn't have picked it up from this. Or do you give Bibles to everyone you come across?"

"Not just a Bible." L pointed towards the bag, and Raito reaching for it, pulled out two more books from the pile inside. He opened one with a simple brown-leather binding, the elegant cursive handwriting he found inside distracting him from the actual content as he flipped through the pages, his eyes taking in the smooth, Edwardian lettering before they converged upon what he suspected was a…cake-stain.

Raito was brought back to reality by that simple, stupid cake-stain as he remembered exactly who he was dealing with here. L might have beautiful handwriting, but he had terrible eating habits. He continued to flip through the book, reading here and there, and recognizing names that any avid news-watcher would be familiar with, even if they were a couple of years back. He was somewhat surprised to find that the thing he currently held in his hands was a journal of L's cases…A recount, categorized by the types of serial killer that he had put away over the past years. But it wasn't only that, it included many other cases. They went into the hundreds, cases that L couldn't have possibly worked on, but were most likely used as comparisons to the ones in his resume.

"I don't understand." This book, it held so many insights into L's logic. It could even be used to date the detective. He could timeline L's career, and from that, estimate his age by tracing the earliest cases…

"Is Raito-kun displeased?" L asked and pointed towards the bag again. "There's more, so when you're finished browsing through that one, you can help yourself to the others."

Something was definitely not connecting here. L was such a secretive person and to lend out something so personal…what was he thinking?

"I haven't written down anything for Kira at the moment since this case is still on-going, but what section do you think I would place him in?" L asked.

"Well…" Raito said, composing himself, "you would place him as organized missionary. However, since he's unlike any serial killer in record, and actually qualifies more for the term of serial mass-murderer, I'm not sure…" Raito said, trailing off when he found the section he'd been looking for.

Why were there so many quotes from the Bible here?

"You wouldn't believe how many serial killers enjoy using biblical allusions in their MO to justify their –"

"Wait," Raito interrupted, "we both listened to those taped-discussions between Mr. Ignatius and the contact, and I remember you clearly stating that he was not the second kira. I agree with that assessment."

"Yes, I have made it clear that I do not believe he is the original second kira -- but there is a potential for him to become a fourth, one like Higuichi. The original Kira is a missionary killer. He mainly focuses on those who he deems 'unfit' for society, and because of this, the current perception of kira in the religious community has been split into one of reverence and one of abject horror. For those who are pro-kira, they see him as 'divine punishment,' and because of his example, if given the chance, if given the ability to carry out his sentencing with his own weapon, many would follow in his lead. In technical terms it's called the 'copycat effect' but in laymen's terms it's called annoying."

Raito agreed whole-heartedly about the annoying part, for it had nearly cost him this case when Misa had suddenly walked into the spotlight. But she had proven herself to be very useful to him, so in times of need, he was now more open to recruiting help. With his freedom of movement cut off, he would need someone to move around for him, but with Misa in Japan he would have to recruit someone here.

He'd already taken into account what L had said. He knew the extremists were small in respects to Kira at the current moment, but in an environment where any god was the central focus, that number would double -- no triple. After all, religion in general had spiked up subsequent to Kira's arrival. It was almost sickening how many had taken up the mantle of religion to try and redeem themselves from past sins.

And out of all the religions, Catholicism had seen the most converts, as the Sacrament of Penance was a very convenient way of resolving sins. Within Lourdes, it would not be difficult to find one person who believed in Kira's philosophy, who saw Kira not as some kind of plague on humanity, but as a God.

Father Ignatius would have people around him. He would have told others of his plight, despite the Seal of Confessional that could get him excommunicated for doing as such. However, many would overlook the discretion in church law, as the deathnote was far too important to bother with trivialities. There would be many who would want Father Ignatius to keep the deathnote for the church, to do Kira's bidding and receive absolute immunity from his judgment. One of these zealots would be open to the idea of coming in contact with Kira, of receiving divine mandates right from his mouth alone.

Raito would find one of these easily influenced souls and use them to secure that deathnote for himself.

"If we do have a kira-supporter on our hands, then the signs will be easier to spot if I had another person there to back up my theories. I need Raito-kun to become very familiar with my train of thought on these matters, and to do this, he will have to do some reading."

Tapping his finger on the book-cover, Raito turned to the detective. "I feel like your mistaking his devoutness for fanaticism. I'm not saying I won't go along with your plan, but I just think he's a simple man."

"It could be – no I am being overly paranoid, but I get the feeling from his discussion with the contact that he's testing me." L passed a thumb over his bottom lip, looking lost in thought as his eyes stared off at nothing in particular. "It makes me feel uneasy," he confessed.

"He did quote the 'Book of Job' and 'Daniel in the Lion's Den'…but I think in concerns to 'L' he just wants you to have faith that nothing will happen to you in a church." Raito smiled outwardly, but inside it was a different matter. He would have absolutely no qualms about killing L in a church. He might not be a religious person, but as far as divine punishment went, it didn't get much better than that.

"So I am supposed to walk in there and pick faith over Kevlar, and hope the bullet aimed at me doesn't destroy my internal organs too much?" L stared at him, eyes boring a hole into his head as he waited for an answer.

"Don't bite my head off," Raito replied.

"Well maybe now you can see why I would make a poor conversation partner for Mr. Ignatius. My cynicism might show, and I would hate to put such vital evidence in jeopardy because I could not hide some nasty comments."

It was a reasonable _excuse_. Raito knew L was professional enough where he could easily set his feelings aside and do whatever it took to get what he wanted. He was shrewd enough and too intelligent to make such mistakes, so the reasoning behind L wanting to use him as a proxy was weak. Although, if it was the mortal danger involved, the fact that he would be the one mainly put in jeopardy made this scenario more believable.

"Plus Raito-kun is very charming, so there should be no problem for him to secure a favorable opinion with Mr. Ignatius, and you've shown me on more than one occasion that you can act my part."

That's right, inflate his ego. L was good at buttering him up when he wanted something -- although it was true.

"He's going to instantly suspect that I'm a proxy. Why don't you get someone who fits the part better?" L had made up his mind that he would be the one to play the role of his substitute, so there was no danger of that role being taken away if he debated some with the detective.

"He will suspect, but between you and me, anyone would choose you as L. You will still have to convince Mr. Ignatius, but I foresee no problems there. The good thing about Raito-kun is that he's an exceptionally fast learner and will adapt to any situation I put him in -- Also to bring someone in at such a late hour in our preparations would be a very big inconvenience to me."

"I suppose" Raito fake-sighed.

"With that photographic memory of yours, this should be easy," L patted the seat next to him with his foot, "But if Raito-kun needs a tutor, I'll be more than happy to help…for the simple price of calling me sempai."

"…"

Raito, looking down at the offered seat with a smirk, leaned back against the desk and did not make a move towards the chair. He looked down at his watch. "You were serious for fifteen whole minutes."

L patted the seat with his foot again. "Raito-kun shouldn't scorn my advances so easily. It hurts my feelings."

Raito chuckled. "Whatever happened to all that professionalism of two minutes ago? If I remember correctly, this morning you told me that work and play would be two very separate things. We would have to…what was it --'conduct ourselves in a manner befitting head detectives when in the presence of others.'"

"Well that was before Raito-kun gave me head, so I'd think my previous statement would have automatically been made void," L said, reminding him of this morning's events and the exact reason why they were an hour late.

"Careful, you could get yourself in trouble if you keep talking like that," Raito teased and sat on the desk, "And anyway, I have a lot of reading to catch up on -- sempai." He smiled at L, but it was very different from the usual kind expression. It was sharper, but still playful enough where it would get his intentions across to the person next to him. L seemed to like the expression by the fascinated look on his face and Raito winked at him. "You know," he started up nicely, "if you were trying to spare anyone's feelings" -- and then that sweetness quickly changed into reprimanding, "you should have thought of me and given me this information as soon as it dawned on you that I would be your proxy. Now I'll have to pull an all-nighter because of your procrastination."

L sat there like a lump on the side of the road and then deduced with his great detective skills, "there will be no sex for me tonight, will there?"

Raito stared at him and murmured tiredly, "no shit, Sherlock."

L bit his thumb and added with a thoughtful expression, "But I don't mind it when Raito-kun plays hard to get."

Raito pushed himself up from the desk and sat down in the offered chair. "Since you see it that way, I'll be playing hard to get for the amount of time it takes me to finish _all this_." He made a sweeping motion to the books stacked up on the table.

"Good thing you know how to speed read," L said, while he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a thin book. The detective opened it, turned to a page bookmarked by a folded edge, and then abruptly closed it and turned back towards him. He glimpsed over at Raito's reading material, like he was comparing them to his own, and then said, "Good luck, Raito-kun," a goofy-ass thumbs-up following that encouragement, and Raito had promptly felt a compelling urge to punch him in the head.

L had then proceeded to turn back to his reading and completely zone him out.

Raito curiously stared after the detective for a few minutes, wondering all the while if L had ever been dropped on his head as a baby.

It would explain a few things.

* * *

That theory of dropped-L-baby was still holding strong when L came back from the land of complete zone-out four hours later, Raito deep in concentration, and began to sip his tea loudly right next to his ear.

"You do this on purpose, don't you?" Raito asked nonchalantly, biting on the end of a pencil and turning a page without looking up to acknowledge L.

"I'm checking up on your progress. It's frightening how much focus Raito-kun has. He doesn't even look up when I make faces at him."

Raito tapped the pencil against the desk, still not raising his eyes from the book. "It's baffling how much smarter you sound when I read your notes than when we talk in person. I'd love to have a conversation with _that_ L," he teased.

One side of L's mouth twitched up. "Raito-kun wants a smart boyfriend."

Raito halted in the middle of the sentence he was reading and finally looked up.

He found the detective deep in thought when he got him in his sights, but that immersed expression quickly vanished as L put a finger comically up in the air and said, "E equals mc --"

Thankfully, his father and Mogi had come through the door before L could finish what Raito deemed a very bad pick-up line in the making.

Leaning to the side, L whispered to him, "Raito-kun looks relieved."

"You'd be relieved too if you got hit with a pick-up line like that." Raito smiled at his father as he approached them, but the smile was really intended for the funny bastard next to him.

"I was shot down before I could even finish, but justice will prevail," L said out of nowhere and very loudly.

"Hi dad," Raito said louder, so it would drown out L's declaration, "How did the meeting go?"

His father gave him a tired smile, not necessarily a bad sign, as these days that expression was the only thing his father could summon in his presence. "Everything went fine. The contact says he will pass on the information, but has assured us that it will not matter, as the Father will accept your coming at any time."

L nodded his head in satisfaction. "That's good to know, and if he says we are welcome anytime, then I shall move the day up one." Then L turned to him, "that will give you less time to prepare Raito-kun, but I'm sure you will be able to handle it."

"Handle what, Ryuuzaki?" Yagami-san asked suddenly.

Raito and L looked away from each other and turned their eyes on the older man. Yagami-san moved towards his son, and Raito opened his mouth to explain the situation, but unfortunately, L beat him to it.

"Raito-kun will be serving the function of my proxy when I visit Mr. Ignatius," L told him in a flat voice. Raito glanced over at his father, and by the expression on his face, he instantly wished that L had used more tact in communicating that bit of news.

L looked over at him for agreement, but stopped when he caught the intense stare that Raito's father was giving him, a single 'eh' escaping the detective as Yagami-san started up.

"But you said -- you said you would not need a proxy. And now my son is --!"

Matsuda and Aizawa had also crowded around the desk, their questioning eyes set upon L and their expressions a mixture of 'Oh, Ryuuzaki did it now' and 'Dumbass, you angered the gun-proficient chief.'

L stared back levelly at everyone before pointedly ignoring the peanut gallery and turning towards the chief. "I can assure you Yagami-san I will take good care of your son. I will not put him through any unnecessary danger."

That was obviously a lie, as L could not promise such conditions when he had no control of the situation in the first place. Nonetheless, Raito would back L up in his argument, as he could not have his father upsetting his plans as well.

Standing up from his chair, he moved towards the older man. "Dad, I understand the risk involved, but I was the one who volunteered." He knew how tenacious his father was, so if this answer would placate him, then he would give it. L looked pleased that he had taken over the handling of his father, as it would definitely save him the trouble. "We need that murder-notebook dad. It's the only way I can prove my innocence, so please let me do this," he pleaded.

"Then can't I take my son's place?" Yagami-san appealed to L, stubbornly sidestepping Raito. "L must look like someone with experience. Father Ignatius will not believe that such a young boy could--"

L shook his head, looking slightly irritated. "No, Yagami-san. I'm sorry, but the fact is, Raito-kun will be my proxy. He is the only one capable of it, so I will ask you to please not interfere." L did not like to repeat himself. It was something he detested. He understood Yagami-san's concern for his son, but he would not allow anyone to come between his plans.

Raito, sensing the current bad blood between his father and L, placed a comforting hand on his father's shoulder. "Please, dad, I'll be okay. I trust Ryuuzaki," he said earnestly, white staring his father in the eyes.

The older man seemed to waver under the sincere-looking gaze Raito had trapped him with. L felt semi-sorry for Yagami-san, as he knew exactly how it felt to try and go against that puppy-dog look that Raito could summon at will. Thankfully, it was on his side this time around.

Yagami-san bowed his head in defeat, his hands shaking at his sides and the frown lines around his mouth apparent, as he tried to contain his emotions.

L thought he should make a concession on his part, so he offered up another assurance. "I promise you that nothing will happen to your son." Again, nothing but an empty promise, but it was the only thing that would get Raito's father off his back.

"I leave him in your care then," Yagami-san said tersely, and you could tell the man did not really mean those words as he hurried out of the room, his anger carrying him swiftly out the door and quietly down the hallway.

The rest of the task force scattered at the grumpy look on L's face. Aizawa didn't look like he cared too much to be quiet about his opinions as he passed by L and mumbled (loudly), "stupid ass could learn some delicacy."

"I like you too, Aizawa-san," L replied and gave him thumbs up. However, with L so irritable, the thumbs up could easily be substituted for another finger that was just one digit over. Aizawa could sense the mockery there and he ignored L with an "I hope you fall out of your chair --"

"Enough," Raito said quietly. He calmly took a seat next to L and gave him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry about my dad."

"I understand Yagami-san's concern, but at the present, that concern is problematic. I have no need for it. I hope he will forgive my insensitivity for the time being and see the bigger picture."

"He'll calm down after he gets some time alone. I would have liked to go to him, but as you can see," Raito raised the chain between them to explain the reason he had stayed put, "I can't do that with you attached to me."

"Raito-kun's father doesn't like me very much right now." L tilted his head and rested it on his raised knees, and for some reason, that gesture reminded Raito of a mime making a sad face.

"Do you even care? He'd like you a whole lot less for other reasons." Raito glanced back at the remainder of the task force and was satisfied with the distance between them.

"Ah, since I'm sleeping with his son," L replied bluntly, "No I imagine he wouldn't be too thrilled about that idea. There would be a more than likely chance that if your father did find out about our little arrangement, he'd get to me way before Kira ever could." L paused and rested a hand on his shoulder. "If that happens, Raito-kun, I leave the investigation to you."

"You have a morbid sense of humor," Raito commented.

"Who says I'm joking. If your father knew what I did to you last night, he'd find some way to push me off the nearest balcony -- and I can assure you, I'd be dead before I even hit the ground." L put his hands together in a diagram of pavement and dead-L-after-angry-father-gets-to-him. "The things I do for Raito-kun's love," the detective sighed.

L was exaggerating for his amusement -- but his father was very much an unreasonable person when it came to his children. He had promised to kill his own son and commit suicide because he could not bear the thought of him as Kira. His father was willing to give his life for him, and if enraged enough, Raito was not sure what he would do to L.

"Well if you want to stay alive then I suggest you be a bit more discreet about certain things," Raito teased, wanting to ease into another subject that would lessen the tension in the room.

"I'm good at keeping secrets," L assured, quickly taking to the bait with no stubborn clinging remarks to their previous conversation. L enjoyed the banter between them, so Raito would give him that escape for the time being.

"But you don't care about marks," Raito said, getting to his point. He was keeping an eye on the investigation team, and so when he pulled down the neck of his shirt, he did so knowing full well that no one was paying attention. "You gave me hickeys." He fixed his shirt back in place and gave L a pointed look.

"What about the ones on your shoulder?" L inquired, like it was show-and-tell and Raito would actually pull his shirt back and show him those too.

"Does it matter?" Raito said exasperated. "I was considerate enough to not leave any marks on you this morning. The least you could do was show me the same courtesy. We are in a tight situation here."

"I understand Raito-kun's predicament, but it should be fine to give him a hickey (or two) if it's below his collar line, unless Raito-kun wants to wear a halter top."

The brunette narrowed his eyes. L was such a jackass when he wanted to be. "Well if you feel that way about it, next time I'll give you a huge hickey on your throat. I hope you like turtlenecks, Ryuuzaki."

They were both beyond childish when one of them had to threaten the other with hickeys.

"I'll put a bandid over it and say I cut myself shaving," L said, choosing to pull something out of his ass rather than his brain, sugar melted as that was.

"You don't have anything to shave." If L used that excuse, everyone, including himself would burst out laughing. He did not find many things funny in his life, but L somehow always proved him wrong with his stupid antics.

"Then I'll say I fell on a vacuum -- it works itself out somehow. I think you shouldn't jump to drastic measures and take the hickey privileges away just because you can't come up with a good excuse like me," he lectured.

Marks were problematic, but if L was going to be so stubborn, he would work around it.

Raito prodded L in shoulder. "I'm not taking them away, I'm just telling you not to leave marks so close to my neckline." The hand next to L's shoulder lowered, nudging down the raised knee closest to him, so that leg was now under the table.

"So where would Raito-kun like me to give him hickeys?" L proposed innocently.

Raito smirked and his hand traced the seam of a pocket on L's jeans. "Does it even need to be said out loud?" He followed that line towards the inside of L's leg, as the detective fixed his eyes on that traveling hand.

"Then that wouldn't constituent as a hickey anymore," L threw out, too preoccupied with watching the hand on his lap to add more on the subject.

"I guess you're right." A finger slipped up the front of L's zipper, only to run slowly back down again. Raito saw one of L's hands twitch on the table before he began to lower his other leg to the ground so it could join its counterpart.

"I don't think I need that forty percent right now." L leaned back in his chair, both legs on the ground, and Raito tossed a look behind them.

His heart was beating faster than it should have, but he guessed it was because they were messing around with the others still in the room. Not the brightest of ideas, he understood, but it was strangely…fun.

"What about the other sixty percent?" Raito asked, punctuating his sentence by rubbing his entire palm against L's groin.

Instantly, one of L's knees jerked up violently and connected with the underside of the table. The loud thump quickly followed by the shattering of expensive china made all the men across the room immediately look up.

"Hey, are you guys okay?" Matsuda, walking over to the desk in concern, was met with the sight of Raito picking up glassware and L face down on the table with his knees tightly drawn up to his chest.

"My hand slipped," the detective explained, while still face down on the table.

"Oh -- okay." Matsuda was about to bend down and help Raito with the clean up, but L's muffled voice stopped him.

"Leave it. I'll tell Watari to attend to that later."

Matsuda looked to Raito, as if taking cue, but the brunette only smiled politely and sat back down in his chair. He watched Matsuda walk back to his station before turning towards L. "I didn't think you would practically knock over the table."

"My knee really hurts," L responded and still hadn't looked up, like his forehead was glued to the table. "The pain is pretty effective at getting rid of an erection though. I'll have to remember that in the future."

Unsympathetic to L's plight, Raito turned back to his book. "You learn something new everyday. Good for you." He took one last look at L, still face down on the table (most likely from the pain) and laughed to himself, making sure in the process that L heard him.

"My other leg is undamaged, Raito-kun. I can still kick you with it."

* * *

**A/n: **A few readers asked me what the rest of L's "E equals mc2" pick-up line was. I never explained the whole idea behind my choice for this line because I think it's very corny (like L). But a reader by the name AisCrim said it was okay to post it, so I trust her judgment on this. So here goes:

L feels that Raito would like a "smart boyfriend," so he quotes from Einstein, a person that is considered a genius to show Raito that he can be smart too. Though he does this in an extremely goofy way in order to come off as cute. It backfires as you can see, since Raito fears there will be more. The "E equals mc2" is the whole pickup line -- sorry if it seemed like there was more to it -- but there's a reference to Raito's (Light's) name within the formula, so it's like a personalized pick-up line. E equals energy, m equals mass, and c equals speed of light in a vacuum. In science, c originates either from constant or celerity – meaning speed – but within the context of this particular formula I see it as representing light too. I also stuck with this one because the letters can represent the names of two other people that I think are important to Raito's development. E can stand for "Eru," which is the way the Japanese would pronounce L's name and M stands for Misa, and as I've said before c represents light. Also, the exponent of 2 is only being applied to the c in this formula and Raito definitely has two sides to him. It's also funny how L is on one side of the formula and Raito and Misa are on the other. But maybe that's just me because my attempts to be funny are lame-o. I seriously think if I ever write a threesome with these characters, I will use this as the symbol for that. But hey, if you're not into that kind of threesome action, then we could probably substitute Mikami in for Misa and call it a day. Either way, I'm fine.

**1. Missionary --** either grouped in organized or disorganized, is a type of serial killer that believes their acts are justified on the basis that they are getting rid of a certain type of person (often prostitutes or members of a certain ethnicity), and thus doing society a favor. I classified Raito into this category because he kills a certain group (criminals) indiscriminately and believes he is doing society a favor. Missionary killers differ from other types of serial killers in that their motive is generally non-sexual. Gary Ridgway, Aileen Wuornos and arguably Jack the Ripper fit into this category.

**2. Copycat Effect --** refers to the tendency of sensational publicity about violent murders or suicides to result in more of the same through imitation.

**3. Sacrament of Penance --** the confession.

**4. Book of Job --** the Devil makes a bet with God that Job, a very righteous man, will curse his name if he took everything away from him. In short, the moral of this story is to have faith.

**5. Kevlar --** Material in bulletproof vests.


	6. L'allure du conflit

--_The Allure of Conflict_--

"You actually worked on the Harold Kippman case?" Raito asked, pointing to the name of a well-known serial killer that had practiced medicine for years, but was actually secretly killing his patients under the guise of their failing health.

"I came into that investigation very late. Do you know how many people Mr. Kippman had murdered by the time I was called to investigate?"

"How many?" Raito asked, suddenly very intrigued by this turn of events.

He'd always been interested in criminology. It was the exact reason he'd taken those cases from his father some years ago and it was also the reason why he wanted to work for the NPA.

If there was ever anything that Raito found interesting (out of all the things that he couldn't put his heart into) it would be detective work.

There was a sense of accomplishment there. Out of all the "noteworthy" things he had done in his life, all his achievements in school and on the tennis court, nothing had ever come close to when he was putting his intellect to some _actual _use and locking criminals away.

L's career was the pinnacle of that.

He was somewhat envious of the detective, since he had worked on cases that had taken up a good portion of news history; but, he supposed, all of that was in the past now.

Today, he was different person. He had practically revolutionized the justice system with the deathnote, and not even L, with his impressive background, could boast of that.

"He was already on his 456th victim when I was called in. The tricky thing about a murderer with a medical license is the fact that his crime scene is an environment where death is commonplace."

"So how'd you catch him?" Raito asked. He remembered a few years back this case had been all over the news, but the details surrounding the process of the investigation and the investigators behind it had been left a mystery.

Now that he knew exactly who had worked on the investigation, it all made sense that the court-case had not been televised and the execution announced.

After collecting all the necessary evidence and then some, L had probably gotten an all-clear to assassinate the man. L was practically an autonomous government in his own right, with massive amounts of manpower and resources of the legal and illegal spectrum. He was recognized the world over as a force of judgment, so the government in charge of getting rid of Mr. Kippman had probably delegated that task over to L, who in turn had asked his right-hand man to quietly cap Mr. Kippman in the head.

If Raito had to guess, he'd say everything had gone down that way – which was fine with him, since scum like that didn't deserve a painless death like the execution chair or lethal injection.

"Mr. Kippman is what you would call a gain-motivated serial killer. He killed once. He thought it suited him, so he continued to kill, and with each kill, he became sloppier. He might have been a prolific murderer over a course of twenty-five years, but once I tracked him down by the forged will of one of his victims, it was all very…_easy_."

Raito knew what such an intentional pause meant. L had said "easy," but was probably thinking along the lines of "disappointing."

Raito could sympathize. He understood that feeling, he thought, _more _than anyone did.

Disappointment in his last life had been as familiar to him as the back of his hand.

He was disappointed in class; he was disappointed at home; he was disappointed with society.

He was disappointed with everyone and everything around him.

However, the only person who he could truthfully say had never disappointed him was L. And he supposed the feelings were mutual in that respect.

Raito, feeling a sudden strange disjointedness, looked over to where L was sitting next to him.

But when he had glanced over at him, he had not meant for their eyes to meet, and so it felt awkward when it did.

Raito smiled easily enough; despite the position he had put himself in, as he brushed off the weirdness with an expression of warmth. L was staring at him, but not with the pinpoint focus that he liked to favor him with. It was more dazed and lost.

Raito was the first to turn his eyes away and return to his reading.

L had followed his lead quickly enough and had begun to poke at his cake.

The silence between them was uncomfortable, which was not something that he was used to feeling around L, especially with both parties so adept at conversation.

Raito was staring at the words in front of him, but his focus was on the person next to him.

That had been really strange.

It was kind of…and kind of not like that time he'd first met Misa and she was explaining how the shinigami eyes worked with a sketch. He'd had a fleeting thought that maybe she wasn't so bad, that he should watch himself and keep himself from developing feelings for her.

Of course, anything of romantic interest had been crushed when she started pestering him again.

Misa was cute, but only when she was of some _use_ to him and not acting like a complete_spaz_, for lack of a something more appropriate.

L seemed to like her a lot, which made sense, since both of them _freaked_ him out on a regular basis, either separately or in joint fashion.

Now that Raito had all those times of suffering L and Misa's joint teasing firmly affixed in mind, he easily found his focus again.

He looked down at the journal in his hands and went back to reading.

He was currently working on only two hours of sleep, so maybe that could explain his wondering mind. But he had never been one to stray, so he could only guess he was being stupid and letting L get under his skin.

L was apparently very good at doing that.

Thankfully, L's case accounts were also very distracting, and Raito found himself quickly absorbed with his reading material.

Raito might _hate _L with a passion that he'd never felt towards anyone or anything in his life, but that did not stop him from respecting the bastard.

L was the only person he'd ever felt…_equaled_ to.

When he thought about it in simple terms, he supposed he liked L -- but purely for his intelligence and a certain deliberate antisocial trait that had made it easier for him to relate.

Sometimes he lavishly pondered on the idea that if L had come along first… if he had ever met L in an actual school setting, apart from all of this, he wondered, would they have become friends?

Undoubtedly, he would have been more than enough competition for him. School would have actually been…

Nevertheless, L was his enemy and thinking such things was a waste of time, since they could meet no other way. These events were a necessity for them to meet. He had to be Kira and L had to be the greatest detective.

They had to be in competition to see the other's better points. To feel that spark of humanity that had been denied them for so long -- that humbling feeling of having someone better than you, someone smarter than you in different moments, come along and pluck things away that_ you_ wanted. To feel the rage of momentary defeat that would follow their mental battles, to feel the surprise, the awe, and then the overwhelming brilliance of triumph...

Those were things that L incited within him, and on some level, distant from his goals and his aspirations, he was thankful. L had given him something to strive for again, to work hard at, to curse and swear over. He had forgotten what frustration was, what pure, unmitigated joy felt like.

L was a combination of that for him. He was frustrated by his intelligence and he was overjoyed at the satisfaction he got from stomping _all over_ that intelligence with _his_ own.

He respected L so much he could admit… maybe he could fall in love with _that_. That aspect of L, not the person, but the ideal of intelligence he offered; the philosophy that was at constant work behind those eyes; the image that everyone was so fond of: the mysterious, almost omnipotent presence that they had built up in their imaginations, like human beings were tempted to whenever they were given an unknown.

Raito may not feel any romantic notions toward human beings, but he was very much a romantic thinker for ideals, for justice. He loved concepts like that, and L in his essence was a form of justice. _Had_ been, until he had come up against him and fallen off the righteous path.

But L had never been the zenith of justice to begin with. Maybe his image had served that purpose, but the real L was something entirely different. The bastard hired con artists and thieves alike, had wanted to wait for the Yotsuba group to kill so he could get evidence, and then had hypocritically wanted to test out the deathnote on convicts.

Convicts were the dregs of society, but _he_ was killing them for a greater purpose. L had wanted to kill them for_ evidence_ in his case. L would do anything to win, and that trait, that mindset, had made him very different from the traditional version of justice.

Raito was the justice of the masses now, and L it seemed had forfeited that role over to him and was now the prideful justice of himself. They were both in it for the pride. There was never any question about that. He did not want to lose to L and L did not want to lose to him. The entire world could go up in a ball of apocalyptic flames and Raito believed they would still be fighting, still staring each other down from the polar opposites that their existences took up.

L was very suited to the role of villain. Raito was thrilled that such a smart bastard was his nemesis, because it only made his victory, Kira's image, and his pride that much greater when he was finally able to defeat L.

Looking over at the detective, Raito masked the onset of malicious thoughts with a neutral gaze.

L caught his stare again, but they broke away from each other when the front door opened and Watari stepped in.

And Raito would have gone back to his reading if he hadn't caught the large, black case that Watari was carrying. He looked over to L for an explanation, since the detective was eternally making Watari the bearer of whatever his current schemes entailed, but the only thing he got was a profile of L's head.

L was stacking the plates in front of him, moving them elsewhere as Watari set the case down in that cleared spot and began to turn the combination on the lock.

Raito was not a person driven by instinct. He only used logic to resolve situations. But this time around, his gut felt very uneasy, and it was right to feel so as he watched L reach into the black case and pull out a gun.

That uneasy-gut-feeling had quickly turned into full-fledged panic!!

L then turned to him, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do while holding a gun, and said, "I wasn't lying when I said I'd take good care of Raito-kun."

If there was one thing that Raito could not keep control of in respects to facial expression, it would be his surprise, and so the wide-eyed stare from him was quite sufficient at summing up his reaction to this news.

Thankfully, L was not holding the gun in the usual manner that he picked up objects, but that still did not make this situation any less tolerable.

The three men at the surveillance station were no longer looking at the screens that should have garnered their full attention, but at the detective who was currently breaking a variety of laws right in front of them!

L had noticed the stares and turned in their direction. "Gun regulations are very strict in France. Fortunately, we have connections in the _Armée__ de Terre _that lets us purchase military arms."

L tilted the gun, moved his face closer to inspect it, and then turned to Watari and said, "I prefer the 92G Elite II."

"If I had been given sooner notice, I could have smuggled them into the country. Getting the Beretta 92-make from a source that is not military is difficult, so you will have to put up with the standard model and not the elite," Watari explained tersely.

"But the elite looks cooler," L commented and gave his right-hand man a semi-grumpy look.

"That's _so _illegal that I don't even know where to begin." Pointing disapprovingly at L, Aizawa turned back to the others, who were still staring at L breaking laws left and right. He gave them a "this is ridiculous" look before he turned in L's direction and shouted across the room, "You got a license for that?"

"No, but Watari does," L replied. "However, I'm quite adept at handling them, so no worries."

L finally turned his eyes back on Raito and then proceeded to wave the gun at him, as it were an extension of his hand. It was at this moment that Raito broke away from his surprise and found the emotion that always awaited him after the ugly shocks L was so fond of doling out.

Staring at L with blank severity, Raito asked quietly, but very intently, "what _is _this?"

The rest of the investigation team started at the question. L stared back at him calmly and replied, "I thought it was obvious. Your father was very cross at me for picking you as my proxy and I thought to reconcile it with him by showing how serious I was at offering the protection I had talked about. I know it's not my usual methods, and I really don't like to use guns, but if we walk in there unarmed and something --"

"I can't believe you!" Raito said in disbelief. "This won't make my father any accepting of this situation. It'll make him even angrier. And you know -- you know how much I hate guns!"

Raito was furious, but for reasons other than what he was shouting about. He truthfully did not like guns, but he could tolerate them. That would not make him angry. What made him angry was that L seemed to be intentionally provoking him with the memory of that day his father had used a gun to scare him.

He could clearly remember how terrified he'd been when his father had pulled that gun on him. It had not been a faked reaction. That terror had been real. He had been so vulnerable during that time and for L to bring up such a nasty memory --

It enraged him. But he was handling this situation the best way he could: by exchanging this one anger for another. It was only natural for a person that had gone through the experiences he had with guns to be standoffish around them, to react in this explosive way, so his anger would be masked with that reason.

"Raito-kun, please calm down. This is the only choice that I'm left with at the moment. I will not allow anyone to enter that church when we are to address Mr. Ignatius. I will even have Mr. Aiber and Miss Wedy clear out for the time being."

L looked down at the weapon in his hands and clenched his fingers tightly around the handle. "I'm very uneasy about entering that church. They obviously have no metal detectors and the Father _seems_ trusting. He will not search us for weapons. It will be assumed that we would not have enough gall to enter into a church with a weapon --"

Raito gave L a horrified look. "Of course it'll be assumed, because they would never think we'd do something like this!"

With negotiations having broken down so quickly, L took the route that was most useful to him when people were opposed to his ideas.

He quickly dismissed them.

"Raito-kun, this is not up to you. I'd like to remind you that your life is not the only one in danger, so I will take all the necessary precautions that are open to me. A gun might not stop the Father from killing us if he is indeed a kira and has made the eye trade, but it's better than nothing."

Raito shook his head angrily at him. "But you can't just do as you --"

The muzzle of the gun being thrust in his face suddenly silenced him.

"This is what we're up against -- or a power similar to it that can kill us on the spot. You do not want me to use the murder-notebook and I've heeded you there, but do not think I will continue to be unreasonable because of you."

Raito narrowed his eyes at the double insult that was L's actions and his words.

"L, you bas-"

_Click._

It was the sound of L removing the safety on the gun and simultaneously squeezing the trigger. Raito's blood had run cold for that one second. The gun was not loaded, but the motions still made him freeze in terror.

"Bang. Now you're dead."

L removed the gun from his sights and placed it down on the table. "Is that enough to convince you?"

"Hey." Aizawa was standing up from his chair so he could walk over to them, probably to break up the storm that he saw quickly brewing between the two.

Raito quietly and suddenly stood up from his seat. The swift motion knocked his chair back, and the loud noise it made when it hit the floor pounded through the room, as if a gavel had been sounded.

Raito silently turned his entire body to face L -- and then he promptly slapped him across the face.

There was a terrible silence following what he did. The entire room halted at the sound his palm made when it connected with L's cheek, but Raito did not falter in his decision.

His first reaction had actually been to punch L, but his points were always quickly lost by the ensuing violence whenever he took that approach. L was acting like such a _raging_ idiot right now (pointing a gun at him and then actually pulling the trigger) that the slap to the face was looking more and more like the best choice to deal with him.

It was so infuriating. L knew exactly what he was doing. He knew he would be jumpy around guns for the simple, understandable reason that he was a kira suspect and to have the person who was repeatedly accusing you of the crime, to have them pointing a gun at you --

What the hell did L think was going to happen?!

He'd be _overjoyed_ at having a gun pointed at him?

_That psychopath! _

L sat there like a chastised child, wide eyes staring straight ahead of him, but not focusing on anything in the room. Raito hoped the lesson had sunk in. L really needed to learn some self-control and it didn't look like anyone had ever volunteered to teach him even a smidgen.

Holding back a truly nasty sneer, Raito strategically hid his face as he moved to fix his chair up-right. He settled it back on its legs and was about to sit down, when L suddenly kicked him hard in the stomach.

The wind was instantly knocked out of him and Raito hit the ground, coughing and clenching his midsection.

"You just slapped me," L said, as if he didn't understand how someone could do that to him.

This time around Raito did not hold back the sneer. He glared at L full-force, eyes almost a golden color, as he rose up from the floor, punched L solidly in the face and knocked his spoiled-ass out of his chair.

"Oh man," Matsuda said nervously. Aizawa had moved forward to go stop them, but Matsuda grabbed him by the arm. "No wait! -- the chief, don't you remember what the chief said? He said to leave them alone when they get like this."

"But not when we're all in the same room!" Aizawa shouted and winced when he saw L lodge a foot in Raito's ribs and knock the teen back against the wall.

"I know but…" Matsuda finished lamely and looked to Mogi for support. The bigger man was no longer paying attention to them, but looking at the two boys as they top-sized the table and all the furniture within proximity.

"Jesus Christ," Aizawa breathed out. The last time he'd seen them fight was through a camera screen, but being in the same room was a completely different thing…

Man they were really going at it.

He understood how stressful this case was, especially for Raito since the boy had his privacy constantly invaded upon and had to put up with L's accusations day in and day out. Aizawa _certainly_ didn't blame Raito for decking L. Tch. He'd actually thought about doing it once or twice.

Watari was still standing by the table (now upside down), his demeanor calm and collected, as he held the weapon's case in his hand and patiently waited for the violence to run its due course.

Raito had gotten L in some kind of headlock, but L had actually been able to kick him in the back and knock him forward.

L was suddenly pulled forward by the chain and Raito slammed his fist into his jaw, knocking L back a couple of steps, until the detective used that momentum and flipped back on his hands, simultaneously catching Raito in the chin with his foot.

Raito felt his knees give, the hit shaking his equilibrium, but from his sudden crouch he shot forward and tackled L into the wall.

"Ouch," Aizawa winced and thought this was actually better than some of the paper-view fights he'd watched. These two might be smaller than the usual combatants, but damn did they ever kick the living shit out of each other. He was actually tempted to place down a bet.

Eh -- might as well. They were already breaking all kinds of laws by allowing L to carry a gun. They might as well throw in some gambling while they were at it.

"Twenty bucks says Yagami-kun makes L eat floor."

Matsuda looked conflicted for a moment before he said, "I think L has a chance. He knows stuff like kung fu." Matsuda stared up at the ceiling, as if the roof would give him the answers to this most problematic betting situation, but quickly consented with a cheerful shout of "Alright! Twenty bucks on L."

Mogi did not place down bets like the others, but had gone back to his station so he could keep an eye on the cameras and do some _actual _work.

Raito was now attempting to pin L's legs to the wall, so he could get a good, proper hit on him, but L's knee shot up and hit in the square in the stomach. He stumbled backwards, but still had enough awareness to grab L by the front of the shirt and yank him along.

L fell right on top of him and it knocked the wind out of him, but Raito quickly rolled them over and straddled L's legs so he wouldn't be kneed again.

He got two good hits on L, before the detective was able to get his hold to slacken and Raito slipped up from his previous seat on the legs under him, giving L the room to maneuver one of his legs up and actually hook Raito around the neck.

Raito made a strangled sound, but was not given more time to try and get out of that hold as L brought his other leg up and then slammed him down to the floor.

"Wow, isn't that the triangle-hold? I once saw a guy perform that at Kōrakuen. I remember the crowd went nuts," Matsuda recalled, like an enthusiastic child that remembered his first outing at the circus.

"If you're talking about the Ishiki Fight, then what Ryuuzaki's doing is a bastardized version of the triangle-hold," Aizawa detailed, since he followed these things regularly and thought himself quite an expert.

"He's improvising," Matsuda defended.

"Ah whatever," Aizawa answered back and was about ready to call L on some dirty fouling.

Incensed beyond a reasonable doubt, Raito hit L squarely in the chest with his foot. L winced and his break in concentration gave Raito the chance to push away form his legs and stagger to his feet.

However, it didn't seem like L wanted to leave the floor, as he caught his foot on Raito's ankle and tripped him, and so effectively sending the teen sprawling.

"He's a ground-fighter. I hate those," Aizawa said.

"L's going to win," Matsuda triumphed. "I told you so."

"You did _not _tell me so," Aizawa snapped back. Dammit, he didn't want to lose twenty bucks to this idiot. Raito better get his ass in gear and win him his money.

_"God, I wish you'd just fucking grow up!" _

Both Aizawa and Matsuda looked to each other at the onset of catty language coming from Raito. It was kind of shocking to hear such a nice boy swearing, but they could understand where he was coming from when L was currently stepping on one of his hands.

Raito kicked his leg out again and hit L square in the knee.

"That's unsportsmanlike," L said and hobbled backwards. "Raito-kun, I think you have a serious case of Cyclical Non-Uterine Dysmenorrhea."

Aizawa might not care to be updated on the latest medical journal weekly, but (through the stupid way guys could joke with each other at the office) he did at least know what the technical term for male-PMS was called, and surprisingly, so did Matsuda, as the man put a palm to his mouth and laughed behind it.

Raito took one good look at L and then punched him in the side of the head.

L stumbled to the right, braced himself up with one hand, and then from that stooped stance, he kicked Raito backwards and the boy hit the bedroom door and tumbled inside.

L hunched over to the door and pulled it shut, so he was outside and Raito was in. However, the chain between them would not allow the door to fully close, and so he had to push against it.

"Get out from behind the door, you imbecile! What are you, five?!" Raito shouted, voice muffled behind the door, but still very angry-sounding. The doorframe began to rattle violently. Everyone suspected Raito was slamming his shoulder against it to force the door open and get to L.

"Raito-kun is super-scary when he's mad," Matsuda whispered, as if he didn't want Raito to hear and come after him too.

L shored up against the door and trying with all his might to keep Raito inside, suddenly turned towards the rest of the investigation team and calmly said, as if he didn't have a massively irate brunette on the other side of the door that wanted to very much kick his ass and then hand it back to him, "Raito-kun and I will be discussing some things in the other room, so if something should happen while we're away, please let Watari handle it."

Suddenly the door flew open and Raito grabbed L by the front of his shirt and yanked him inside the room. The door was locked behind them and almost immediately Matsuda and Aizawa heard a loud thump.

If Aizawa and Matsuda hadn't been outside, they would have known that the loud thumping noise had come from Raito yanking L so hard that the detective stumbled forward and hit the floor face first.

Raito was currently taking full advantage of L's tumble and stepping on the back of his head. He thought it was a nice change from being kicked in the stomach.

"Have you _any_ idea how badly I can kick your ass right now?" Raito punctuated his point by easing his leg down, so his knee was now pressing into L's back.

"Raito-kun makes it sound like he'll come away completely bruiseless."

With the detective's head planted in the carpet, his muffled threat lost any and all intimidation points. Raito favored the back of L's head with a truly vicious smile. "That sounds about right."

He'd played nice with L for a good amount of time. There was nothing in the rules he'd made for himself that said he couldn't kick L around for some time. Surely he had good reasons for it. They _were_ having a fight after all.

"You make it so hard to be nice to you," Raito tossed out, as he went for L's forearm so he could pull it backwards. However, he felt a grip on his calf when he leaned in, and before he could shake it off, L had yanked and he fell backwards.

"Raito-kun could maybe try a little harder," L retorted.

There was an ugly scuffle that lasted about one minute. He was able to shove L back against the wall, but the advantage he should have had with that move was made pointless by L gripping onto both of his wrists and rendering them useless for punching purposes.

There was another minute spent struggling through very close combat that made it impossible to execute an effective punch or kick from both parties.

They were able to wrestle each other down until they were half-kneeling on the floor, each struggling to push the other back and only ending up trapped in a futile seesaw motion.

Taking a deep breath, Raito looked L dead in the eyes. "You give up yet?"

"When did I ever say I was going to give up? But while we're on the subject, would Raito-kun like to bow out graciously?"

Raito had more upper body strength than L, so after a few more angry struggling incited by L's insults, he was able to rip his hands away.

He wound them in the front of L's t-shirt and he felt fingers at the same time catch against his jeans, rove up his sides and roughly pull him forward, until he was practically sitting on L's legs.

He was so close to L that he could feel his breath on his neck and his chest moving in rhythm to it. They were both looking each other.

The void in L's eyes was perfectly, strangely mirroring the light in his own. Raito hated that look. He hated it so much, because that look knew too damn much, was too curious, too rebellious, and too brave.

Tightening his fists in L's shirt, Raito slammed his head back into the wall, and then…

…then, they were making-out.

Raito wrapped both his arms around L's shoulders and pulled him forward. L seemed to be trying out the same move on him. The arm around his waist was insistent. Raito figured out why a couple of seconds later when he passed over L's boner.

"I'm still mad at you," Raito said; even though he was pressing himself down on L and watching the detective hit the back of his head on the wall again.

"Forgive and forget," L croaked.

"Then _apologize_," Raito demanded.

L stopped pawing at his back and promptly answered him with a resolute "No."

Raito narrowed his eyes.

What he should have done at that moment was slug L right in the smug face, but what he ended up doing was moving against him.

L tensed and shuddered. His head banged against the wall again, and like the first and second time, he didn't seem to notice that his precious skull had hit anything solid.

Raito had also gone instantly tense. He had brushed up against L's clothed stomach in his rush to move over him, and that familiar feeling of helplessness flashed through his mind. A brief flare of that heady sensation sparked in the pit of his stomach and Raito swallowed the breath he'd been holding.

Uh, not now. They were having a fight for goodness sake.

It wouldn't have been a bad idea to get L extremely worked up before leaving him to fend for himself. It would have been nice revenge for all the crap that he had put him through today, and the least he could do was return the favor.

But it wouldn't work if he was too aroused to even walk away properly. It was ridiculous how easy his body could transmute one frustration into another. And L wasn't helping, as his hands found his waist and attempted to shift him back and forth over his lap. Raito braced his hands down on the floor and stopped all movement with a flex of his hips and a squeeze of his knees around L's ribs.

"Raito-kun," L whispered and the fingers around his waist tightened. "We've fought enough. I'd like it if we made up now." L tried to slickly push him on his back, but Raito angered at the crafty excuses L could come up with, slammed him back against the wall.

"You _never_ said you were sorry."

"And I don't intend to," L told him bluntly. There was suddenly a hand (just as blunt) fitting itself to the back of his neck and pushing him forward. Raito made an unenthusiastic attempt to get away from the mouth settling on his throat.

The hands he had braced down on the ground had transferred their grip over to L's shoulders. He again tried to push away, and he could easily break away from the now gentle touch around his neck, but that feeling in his stomach was out of control.

Raito shoved L against the wall again in pure, hot-blooded frustration, but instead of trying to get away, he pressed against L's stomach and shifted up, the move letting him rub against the firm surface of skin under L's shirt. Raito felt himself become fully erect in his jeans and he shifted back down to L's lap to get more of that touch.

L made a funny noise in the back of throat.

The hand on his neck was reaffirming its grip on his nape and dragging him even closer. Raito gasped when he felt lips travel up his neck and move back down, the touch no longer feather-light but a wet pull against the skin of his throat.

Groaning and grasping at the shoulders under him, Raito tilted his head so L could get more of the juncture between his neck and shoulder. He was rocking back and forth in L's lap, the horrible whining sound coming from his throat, as he rubbed against L's clothed stomach, making him just want it to be over with.

It was uncomfortably warm and very difficult to get off with two layers of clothing each between them. And after all the turbulent fighting, he was winded and aching all over. It couldn't have been as comfortable for L either, since he was below him, being pressed down into the hard floor and back against the wall with someone heavier to booth.

He had punched L repeatedly in the stomach. This shifting business probably wasn't helping L's bruises at all. It surely didn't help his.

This was absolutely the worst possible time they could have picked to do this, but despite all the unfavorable factors involved in getting them here, and despite all the antagonism existing between them, Raito couldn't bring himself to stop, not when L hooked his fingers in his belt loops and began to tug his pants down.

Raito was more than willing to help, as he pressed his hands over L's fingers and eased the material of his jeans over his hips, dragging his boxers along with it. Raito didn't take them off completely, but only so they wouldn't get in the way.

He then went onto lift up the hem of L's shirt and pressed his erection against his lean stomach. There was nothing but warm skin and the heavy motion of L breathing deeply in and out. Raito immediately knew it wouldn't last long, not with L already pressing against him in return and both of them moving against each other.

He came with L practically licking his throat and fingers curling around his neck and hips. He hadn't been able to restrain the noises. It was stranger and much more disorienting with the person right in front of you. Raito thought that was most likely the reason for his inability to keep quiet.

It took longer for L to find his release since he had not bothered with opening his pants, but Raito made sure L had fun all the same and pushed back hard against him through his jeans.

The mouth on him had not detached itself from his throat when L came. He didn't seem to want the air, and actually sunk his mouth down firmer on neck. Raito felt blunt pressure scrape against his skin before an edge of sharpness from teeth pinched his nerves. L seemed to need the occupancy of his mouth on something as the intensive waves of pleasure ripped through his body and he tried to control himself.

Afterwards, when quiet had descended on the room, Raito opened his mouth to say something and came up short.

He'd been ready to taunt L, but after their fight and that last burst of energy spent, Raito really didn't think any words would be sufficient enough to dig into the detective.

Lifting his head up from the black hair it had been nestled in, Raito stared down blearily at the detective. He caught L blinking, which was a strange feat to witness from him. L had also glanced over at him. They were now watching each other and it was a mixture of outright staring and glancing away.

After awhile L turned his head so it was occupying the curve of his neck and Raito let him. Maybe that gesture could be interpreted as a silent apology, with either him or L giving it, but Raito highly doubted that.

There was no such thing as an apology between them. Raito knew there never would be. It was important for them to have that sense of boundary from normal people. Only those who truly cared were made to apologize and shame themselves for another person. What they had was the complete opposite. They were intelligent for each other in terms of bragging rights. They were intelligent for their separate identities. They were intelligent because pride came before everything else. It was rivalry with intense physicality and Raito could not be happier with the shape their arrangement had taken.

**A/n: **They're dysfunctional, but that works for them.

**1. Harold ****Kippman****- **His actual name is Harold Shipman. I used creative license to tweak his name. He goes by the nickname Dr. Death. He was convicted of 15 murders; a later inquiry stated he had killed at least 215 and possibly up to 457 people over a 25 year period.

**2. ****Armée**** de Terre- **Army of France

**3. Beretta 92--** is a series of semi-automatic pistols. This is a standard gun for a French soldier.

**4. 92G Elite II-- **An updated version of the Beretta 92.

**5. ****Kōrakuen**** Hall**, -- an arena in Tokyo which hosts many boxing, professional wrestling, and mixed martial arts matches.

**6. Cyclical Non-Uterine ****Dysmenorrhea**** or CNUD -- **Male cramps. It exists people, and if you don't believe me, check out the website: Maclnnes and porritt institute. A possible explanation for why Raito killed so many people could lie in the theory of him existing in a constant state of PMS. So if that were true, the only hope to save mankind would not be L, but would be a bottle of Midol and a glass of water. Hmm…what kind of cracked-out A/n is this?


	7. La descente de l'ange

_--The Angel's Descent-- _

It was on one of those dreadfully cold mornings that they found themselves in front of the Lourdes Cathedral. The sky overcast but with strains of sun pushing through so behind many clouds, halos bloomed.

Looking up at the soaring structure before him, Raito felt the cold wind of early morning ruffle through his hair and play with the dark scarf around his neck.

There were three white conical spires looming up from the church, each their own length, but all capped with simple crosses. The graceful, sculpted wood contrasting with the dark-fortress-like foundation from which it sprung up, like doves soaring high above black trees.

Raito immediately caught the movement on the roof and was not surprised to see familiar dusty-white wings spreading out, the death god appearing as if it were a gargoyle come to life.

L noticed Rem, but he did not comment on her choice of migration.

There were many people on the Lourdes grounds, even after pilgrimage season was over. Raito and L moved along with the bustle towards the west-end, where the morning sermons were about to take place.

When they entered into church through two beautiful oaken doors, thin grape vines carved into the panels and sprawling into a design over the handles, they took the pews in the far back and were quickly book-ended by an elderly man and a boy.

"Raito-kun," L whispered over to him, his voice blending in with the drone of chatter that was steadily rising as more churchgoers entered the room. There really was no need to whisper with everyone so involved in their own affairs and the noise level jumping back and forth between different scales, but L seemed to enjoy being difficult.

In obvious mockery of L, Raito leaned over and whispered back unnecessarily, "Yes?"

L had a very serious look on his face (well more serious than usual) and Raito sat up straighter in his chair and waited for L to inform him of whatever he seemed to be suddenly bothered by.

"You look very nice in your suit."

Raito eyed L very carefully and told him flatly, "I actually thought you had something important to say."

"It's important that Raito-kun looks good," L defended. "It makes me look good in turn, since Raito-kun is representing me." L paused and got a thoughtful expression on his face. "Although, you might make me look _too_ good." L did not appear conflicted over his last remark. He actually looked pleased.

Raito smiled despite himself. "You think so?" he asked, and playfully brushed a finger along the sleeve of the dark suit jacket that L was currently wearing. "I think you pull off a suit better than you say."

L lowered his gaze and scratched behind his head. "Raito-kun is embarrassing me."

Raito highly doubted anything he said could ever embarrass L, but it was amusing that he could fake it so well.

"Well if you need me to knock you back down to earth, I'm more than happy to recall that you caused me nothing but trouble this morning."

It would seem that L was not picky about what he wore, since he walked around in jeans and a t-shirt all day, but actually he was very particular about his clothing. The main adjectives they had to include were baggy and unrestricting.

"But this is very uncomfortable. Can I loosen the tie?" L slipped a finger in the knot, but Raito nudged the hand away with his elbow before any loosening could be done.

"I spent some time dressing you this morning. You _can_ hold on a bit longer." If Raito didn't know any better, he'd swear he was talking to a child.

"But not too long; I'm positive this is what asylum lock-ups feel when they're put in a strait-jacket." L then passed his hand through his hair. "Also, Raito-kun has upset the ecology of my head by putting gel in it."

_Ecology_, Raito thought with a roll of the eyes.

Did L think he was some type of habitat now?

"You know it's church formal. I can't believe you wanted to come here in jeans."

"It wouldn't have mattered. I'm not the one who needs to impress Mr. Ignatius."

"Yes, but it would have made_ L_ look bad if he had such a sloppily dressed employee following him around."

L contemplated this for a moment. "I don't want to make myself look bad."

"Exactly, as I said this morning. Were you _even_ listening to me?"

"Not if you have to repeat yourself now," L told him and rested a finger on his bottom lip.

Raito paused and then frowned at the detective when understanding dawned on him.

"So you completely tuned me out when I was changing in front of you?"

There was a small smile on L's face. "So really if we look at it from that perspective, it's all Raito-kun's fault."

"I like how you explain away all your short-comings on me. It's very convenient."

"Yes, I think so too," L rejoined and glanced over to the persons who were making quite a little commotion. "There's a child seated next to me," he stated, "Raito-kun, quick switch seats with me."

"No," Raito replied and faced front so he would be spared the stupidity that plagued L when he was he was in the mood for it.

It was easy for them to fall back into their almost domestic cat and mouse routine after their fight, and over the past two days, this is what Raito had been aiming for. However, Raito had found that his usual easily pacified temperament was being stubborn.

Outwardly, he was trying to be nicer, but irritability would not be long in coming for him when he did, and so instead of being nicer to L, he was actually doing the opposite.

It was not as if L did not entirely know that side of him. They had fought enough and exchanged some not-so-nice word in the past, but that had been while Raito was not acting his role.

Back then, he had not seen any reason to hide his true feelings over anything -- certainly not his temper. Nothing had been masked.

But when he had regained his memories, he had wanted L to slowly forget that side of him and focus on the kinder parts. It might seem like a personality change, but L might take it as Raito slowly warming up to him again.

He had not been thinking about it, but it was a poor act of judgment on his part to slap L and then fight him over it. He did not want to portray himself as that kind of person, but it was too late to try to rework his personality. It would seem like he was trying too hard to be nice and that would not do.

The sudden abatement of chatter had ripped him away from his musings, and the sound of soles connecting solidly with the wooden floor made him focus on the person dressed in black and moving across the lectern.

L's head had perked up like a hound, big eyes staring forward to catch the expected Father in his sights and zoom in on him.

They were pretty far back, so the man's features were not very clear, but after studying his movements through a camera lens for some days and memorizing his face from the photograph, they were more than confident this was Father Ignatius.

They heard him clear his throat, the natural acoustics in this church working to carry the sound all the way to the backbenches. He shuffled papers, flipping through his sermons for the today until finding his place.

He began on an awkward note, right when someone had coughed, but he did not pause or let it pass, but carried on louder than the coughing woman, and was easily able to drown her out.

He dove right into the Book of Joshua and talked about the Canaanites' destruction by God for their sins.

Raito had thought it a strange place to start from, since his discussions for the week had been centered on New Testament stories. He wondered if he should take it as a sign.

After fifteen minutes had passed, the sermon began to lose its novelty and he started to become impatient. He had liked that some parts kept his philosophy in mind, but other than that, he found nothing enjoyable in sitting here and waiting for the end.

He was utterly bored out of his mind by the time they hit the 30 minute mark, but he knew he looked attentive, which was more than could be said for L, who had gradually began to slouch, like the stages of evolution were working in reverse and L was turning back into a Neanderthal.

Nudging him in the arm, Raito whispered, "I told you not to do that. It brings attention to us. You want to blend in, don't you?"

"I'm sitting with my legs on the floor; the least Raito-kun could allow was some slouching," L grumbled.

"You're worst than that kid sitting next to you," Raito told him and glanced over at the child, who had boxed what seemed like his brother in the arm.

Curious, L also turned in their direction, wide black eyes scary to anyone that was not used to them, and one of the boys actually made a cross sign at him.

Raito felt the corners of his mouth twitch and had the sudden urge to tell the child he was definitely on the right track.

L looked at the children closely (possibly to stave off the boredom he was feeling) before hunching down towards them and whispering, _«__Savez-vous __ce __que __Dieu__ fait aux __petits __enfants__ qui se __moquent__ du __prophète__ Elisha__?»_ (Do you know what God did to the children who mocked the prophet Elisha?)

Both boys looked at L warily and then shook their heads.

_«Il __envoie__ des ours pour les __dévorer__» _(He sent bears to eat them,) L replied matter-of-factly.

One minute later, L was sitting next to the grandmother of the two children.

She smiled pleasantly at both of them in apology for her grandchildren's suddenly _strange_ behavior.

_«__Oh, __est-ce__votre__ première __visite__ici__?»_ (Oh, is this your first time coming here?) she started up despite services going on in the background. Raito wondered if she was senile.

_«Je n__e __vous__ai__ encore __jamais__ vu __ici__ -- __et__ je le __saura__is__si__vous__étiez__ des __réguliers__c__ela__ fait __bien__quatre-vingt__ans__que__je __viens__ à __cette__église__» _(I've never seen you two here -- and I would know; I've been coming to this church for some eighty good years.)

L put his hand out to shake hers. _«Nous __sommes__venus__ de __Russie__jusqu'ici__.» _(We've come all the way from Russia.)

_Russia?_ Maybe L could pull off Russia, but his features were not going to let him get away with that one. If the detective was going to fabricate a land of origin, he could at least try a_ little_ harder to fit their stories together. He swore L had too much fun fucking around with people sometimes.

The woman glanced over at him and he smiled warmly at her.

L directed her attention back to him with another set of bullshit. _«__J'ai__eu__une__ vision de la __Mère__ Marie __dans__ un __Clafouti__ aux __Cerises__ et __j'ai__ressenti__ le __désir__soudain__ de __venir__voir__ le __fameux__ temple de Marie__.» _(I had a vision of the Mother Mary in a Cherry Clafouti and I was inspired to visit the famous Marian Shrine here.)

The Mother Mary in _what? _

_«Oh __doux __Jésus! __Vous __avez __eu __une__ vision!__ La __Vierge __vous__ a __personnellement __donné __sa __bénédiction. __Êtes-vous __allé __voir__ la __grotte__?» _(Oh my! You've had a vision. The Virgin, she gives you her blessing directly. Did you visit the grotto yet?)

_«__Oui, __l'incarnation __était __jolie__.» _(Yes, the incarnation was lovely.)

_«__Avez-vous__bu__l'eau__là__-bas? __Elle __peut__soigner__ les __malades. __J'avais __une __amie__ qui __souffrait__ d'un horrible __cas __d'arthrite__ et __elle __est __allée __boire __cette__ eau. __Et __maintenant__, à __toutes__ les __fois __où__ je __lui__ rends __visite, __elle__ me __dit__ tout le temps à __quel__ point __elle__ se sent __mieux. __Mais __j'ai __aussi __entendu__ dire __que__l'on__ ne __peut __toutefois __guérir__ les malformations physiques.__Toutefois__, je __n'y __crois__ pas, __cette__ eau __bénite __guérit__ tout __selon __moi__.» _(Did you drink the water at the grotto? It can heal the sick. I had a friend that was suffering from a horrible case of inflamed joints and she drunk the water there, and now every time I see her, she tells me how much better she feels. But I also heard it doesn't just cure physical ailments. Oh no, it helps with everything.)

The chatting woman and L were currently getting very dirty looks from the people sitting around them. L noticed, but he did not seem to care one bit, as he continued to speak about his made-up nonsense.

_«__Vous __avez__ tout à fait raison__.» _(That's very true,) L agreed with the woman. _«Mon __ami __ici __est __alcoolique__.» _(My friend here is an alcoholic) he started up somberly.

_Oh no_, do not bring him into this. Why L could not just shut up and ignore the old woman was beyond him.

_«Nikolai __souffrait__ beaucoup __lorsque __l'on __résidait __toujours __dans __notre __mère __patrie.__ Je __crois__que__ la __Vierge__ Marie a __entendu __mes __prières__ et __m'a __envoyé__ un __signe__ pour __que__ je __puisse __l'amener __ici __afin __qu'il __guérisse__.» _(Nikolai was suffering over in our mother country. I think the Virgin Mary heard my prayers and sent a sign so I could bring him here to get her healing.)

So apparently, he was a Russian named Nikolai, who was also an alcoholic -- L, you bastard.

_«Il __n'est __toujours__ pas __retourné__ à __ses __vieux __démons __alors__ je __crois __qu'il __est __bel__ et __bien __guéri__.» _(He hasn't gone back to the demons, so I have good reason to think he has been healed.)

_«__Comme __c'est __merveilleux! __J'espère __que__ tout __va__ pour le __mieux__, Nikolai__.» _(How wonderful! I hope things work out for you Nikolai.)

Raito nodded his head. _«Ah, tout __va __bien. __C'est __vrai, __Grigoriy__?» _(Ah, everything is working out just fine. Right, Grigoriy?)

L turned to him, made a funny face, and then turned back to the woman. _«__Mais __Koyla __n'est __toujours__ pas __sorti__ du bois__!» _(But Koyla is not out of the woods yet) L said, Russian pet name in tow.

Well two could play at that game. _«__Grisha __s'inquiète__ beaucoup __trop__ pour __moi__.» _(Grisha worries too much about me) Raito interrupted. _«__Même __lui__ a __ses __propres __problèmes__ et __il__ se __soucie __quand __même__ des __autres__.» _(He has his own problems and he worries so much.)

The current problem that Raito was alluding to was his shoe mashing down on L's foot.

_«Ah, __m__ais __Koyla__ me fait __tant__ mal aux pie__ –__ eh__ -- __coeur__.»_ (Ah, but Koyla causes me so much foot – eh -- heartache.) L suddenly slapped his hand down on Raito's thigh in what was supposed to be a good-natured pat between friends, but was really a strategy to get Raito's shoe off his foot.

_«__N'est-ce__ pas __vrai, __moya __milaya__?» _(Isn't that right, moya milaya?) L asked, as the other's foot retreated from whence it came.

Raito forced a smile. _«Oh__, oui; r__ien __qu'un__ coeur __douloureux, __dorogaya__» _(Oh, yes; nothing but heartache, dorogaya.)

The old woman cooed something about the lovely bonds of friendship.

Fortunately for L, he did not need to resort to another game of violent footsy as the service came to an end, a succession of noises at the front pews heralding the lining up of parishioners to leave the church.

Raito rose up from his seat; his eyes darting towards the front to make certain the Father was still there. He cleared his throat to get L's attention, but the detective seemed to want to go at his own pace as he turned towards the elderly woman and held out his hand to help her up. _«Madame, je __n'ai __jamais __eu __votre__ nom__.» _(Madam, I never got your name.)

_«Oh. __C'est __Émilie. __J'espère __que__ nous __nous __verrons__ au sermon de la __semaine __prochaine. __C'est __toujours__ bon __que__ les __jeunes__ gens __restent __près__ de __notre__ Seigneur. __Ils __ont__ temps __d'obstacles__ à __surpasser__ de __nos__jours__.» _(Oh. It's Émilie. I hope to see you two at next week's sermon. It's always good for young people to stay in touch with the Lord. They have so many hardships to go through nowadays.)

L waved her off with her two (still horribly scarred) grandchildren, and turned towards him. "She was nice."

Raito gave him an exasperated look.

"Are you finished?"

"Yes, I'm quite done," L replied. He held out his hands so Raito would know to walk ahead of him, and the brunette stepped out into the nave, his fingers straightening out a tie that did not need fixing, but would get it anyway.

Without a backwards glance, Raito began to stride forward, and L keeping to the rear watched him as he moved ahead.

The sunlight outside had began to filter in through the stain glass windows on either side of them, the glass magnifying the light as it passed through until it was simmering along in wavy streams on the mosaic ceramic floors.

Raito was caught in that flood of light, fair skin and hair aglow, and completely oblivious to how it seemed to transport him from the human realm and into a world of his own making.

Anything resembling a humble spirit was vanquished in that revealing light, and the only thing remaining was the brazen and upright confidence of a boy who seemed divine by some cruel whim on humanity.

L felt his breath catch. It always surprised him just how -- perfect Raito Yagami was. He'd never believed men should be called beautiful (compared to woman, they lacked the innate gentleness and delicate features for the term) but Raito… there was just no other word fit to describe him when all that pride and strange outer purity came together and formed into an almost tangible shell of presence.

L shook his head and thought how funny it all was. It seemed that even the heavens themselves wanted to prove Raito innocent. Everyone was against him in his judgment, and really could he blame them -- not when that face swayed him more than he liked to admit.

It was hard for it not to. When thinking about absolute evil, Raito was the farthest thing from anyone's mind, but that was the exact reason why L was so convinced:

Raito Yagami was far too perfect.

By the time L had made it to the base of the few steps it took to ascend the lectern, Raito was on the platform. He finally looked back at him, eyes gleaming like polished glass and bodily outline suited to the backdrop of religious imagery painted on the pulpit.

L stared up at Raito and smirked. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think Raito-kun was an angel."

Raito smiled down on him, but what he probably deemed as a benevolent expression, L saw nothing but condescension.

"Then what does that make you?"

**_/I'm the person that's going to drag you down from your pedestal/_**

L smiled. "A secret admirer."

He heard the quiet laughter meant for his ears only, and then Raito was walking away from him and towards Mr. Ignatius.

When L mounted the top step, Raito had already caught the Father's attention.

_«Bon matin, Père Ignatius.»_ (Good morning, Father Ignatius) he heard Raito's pleasant voice say. There were people standing around the man and wanting an audience with him, but Raito had just cut in without even an attempt to placate the waiters. It was ridiculously rude, but the congregation let him in without a word in otherwise, admiration for his grace perhaps, or possibly more at work, an innate warning signal that said to back down from this one.

Some people were very sensitive to evil, after all.

The Father nodded his head in greeting. _«Ah, bonjour. Quepuis-je pour vous, mon enfant?» _(Ah, Good morning. What can I do for you today, my child?)

Raito smiled politely. _«Ce n'est pas une question de ce que vous pouvez faire pour moi, mon Père, mais plutôt de ce je peux pour vous. Je suis venu pour vous délivrer d'un certain fardeau, après tout.» _(It's not a question of what you can do for me Father, but more of what I can do for you. I did come here to release you of a certain burden, after all.) Raito was cutting right to the chase. Nevertheless, it was a strange thing to say to a priest, considering what the Father's job maintained on a regular basis.

It sounded very pompous, but L knew Raito was confident that he could spout such grand words and have people accept them.

_«Fardeau?»_ (Burden?) The Father froze and dropped the Bible in his hands. The thud made a few of the churchgoers flinch and alerted a nearby colleague dressed in the same black robes, the man scurrying towards the Father and on his way looking at Raito carefully.

Raito did not give the other man a nod of apology, but kept his watch on the Father. It seemed his level gaze was sufficient to break the man away from his shock and collect his thoughts.

He stuck out a hand for Raito and grasped the teenager's firmly in his. _«C'est vous?»_ (You -- are you him?)

Raito shook the hand gently, the motion more reassuring than any response he could have offered. _«Pourrais-je avoir un moment avec vous, mon Père?»_ (Could I have a word with you Father?)

_«C'est -- est-celui?»_ (This -- is this the man?) the other priest asked, cutting in on Raito's request. _«Comment est-ce possible? Il ne semble à peine plus vieux que dix-huit ans»_ (How can this be? He's doesn't look a day over eighteen.)

_«Je vous en prie René.»_ (Please René.)

_«Mais Père Ignatius»_ (But Father Ignatius) the man persisted. He glanced over at the people still mulling around for a word with the priest and he excused both of them. He then walked the man over to the far end of the stage and started whispering.

The people on the lectern began to dissipate, seeing as they were not going to get any brief words from Mr. Ignatius. Raito calmly stood there, looking none fazed by the brush-off from the other priest. He even turned his head slightly so he could catch L's eye.

L noticed there was a smirk at the corners of Raito's mouth, quirking up one side and summarizing how quaint he found all this to be.

Rarely did L enjoy having Raito so blatantly smug with him, but it was oddly reassuring to have all that confidence staring back at him and practically saying 'everything was in the bag.'

L came over, settling near him.

After another minute of harsh whispers, Father Ignatius broke away from his confident and crossed the stage._ «Mes sincères excuses pour vous avoir fait attendre, mais veuillez comprendre…»_ (My apologies for making you wait, but please understand...)

_«Bien sûr, je comprends parfaitement.»_ (Of course, I understand completely) Raito echoed. _«Il est bien normal d'avoir certains doutes.» _(It's only normal that you have doubts.) He paused to smile. _«En fait, j'aurais été inquiet si vous n'auriez eu aucune réticence.»_ (Actually, I would be worried if you didn't have any suspicions against me.)

Raito was extremely good at spouting lines that would be difficult for anyone under suspicion to say. He elaborated with such good-humored ease that it was almost as if he hypnotized himself into believing it was the truth.

His ability to lie was truly a powerful and frightening thing.

_«Mais s'il-vous-plaît, mon Père;comprenez que je me montre toujours quand dernier recours. Vous m'avez demandé en personne, Je ne suis pas du genre à révéler mon identité si facilement, toutefois, vous avez quelque chose qui est vital pour ma cause.»_ (But please Father; understand that I am coming to you in a bargain of desperation as well. You asked me to come here in person. I am not usually the type of person that would give my identity away like this, but you have something that is vital to my cause.) Raito looked at the ground in a humble gesture that would have done any holy martyring saint proud.

Good. He was appealing to the priest's sense of urgency. When both sides were desperate, which they were truthfully, it would be easier for them to accept each other under such conditions.

It would be useless for "L" to come in and calmly bargain for an item that had so much political and religious stigmas placed on it, so the Father would understand the grief that Raito was acting out.

_«Mais ne prenez pas mes paroles pour acquises.»_ (But please don't take my word for it) Raito said, and he looked directly at the dubious friend, suddenly in business mode as he held a hand over his shoulder, elegant fingers outstretched to accept the object that would prove his existence.

_«Grigoriy, s'il-te-plaît.»_ (Grigoriy, if you would.)

L did not like to be bossed around, but it was all in the role, so he untucked his shirt, pulled it up, and revealed the black strap around his stomach, the deathnote confined against it.

He slid the deathnote from its hiding spot and handed it over to Raito, who accepted it graciously.

_«Désolé pour ceci, mais sachez que nous devons le garder sur nous en tout temps.»_ (Sorry for the display, but you understand we must keep it on us at all times.) Raito handed it over to Father Ignatius and the man's eyes went wide.

_«C'est -- c'est ça. C'est le même.»_ (This -- this is it. It's the same.) The father quickly handed it back to Raito. _«En toucher un est déjà une malédiction en soi; je crains d'aggraver ma cause en entrant en contact avec un deuxième.»_ (Touching one is enough of a curse; I fear the retribution for holding another.)

Raito shook his head solemnly. He caught Father René looking at the notebook and without hesitation held it out to him. _«Il est mieux que tous sachent ce que ce cahier signifie exactement.»_ (It's best to have all those who are participating know exactly what this thing is.)

L would have preferred only the necessary persons to touch the deathnote, but since the man already knew and his opinion counted to the Father, they would have to share vital information with him. Although it was a disaster waiting to happen if one of these priests caught sight of Rem on the rooftops.

René stared at the notebook and then took it into his hands. He did not dare to look inside, but only glimpsed at the back cover and handed it back to Raito.

_«Vous êtes --»_ (You are --)

Raito put a finger to his lips so Father Ignatius would see that he did not want him to finish his sentence.

_«Je vous demanderais de ne pas mentionner mon nom à haute voix. Si vous devez absolument me nommer, appelez-moi Nikolai.»_ (Please do not utter my identity aloud. If you must address me, please call me Nikolai.)

_«M. Nikolai.»_ (Mr. Nikolai.) Father Ignatius began, looking a bit embarrassed to be ordered by someone younger. _«Si vous et votre ami voudriez bien vous asseoir. J'aimerais discuter un peu.»_ (If you and your friend would take a seat, I would like to discuss some things with you.)

L thought it best to pick a closed-off room to discuss these matters, but the Father appeared most comfortable in the place where he preached, so he assumed Raito would not suggest something to him.

After Father René had come back with chairs, they all sat down together.

Raito took the seat placed down for him, sat up straight, folded his hands in his lap, and crossed his ankles together.

L slouched forward in his chair and didn't give a damn how bad it looked. Raito was more making it up for the both of them with that pristine, Catholic schoolboy impersonation.

_«Excusez-moi de ne m'être proprement présenté, ainsi que mon associé,»_ (Excuse me for not properly introducing myself and my associate,) Father Ignatius said, as he took a seat next to René. _«Mon nom est Ignatius Corentin Boucher et voici le pasteur de cetteparoisse, René Louis Godard.»_ (My name is Ignatius Corentin Boucher and this is my parochial vicar, René Louis Godard.)

Raito held his hand out for René and the man, who looked like he was in his late-twenties, took his hand and shook it tersely. Raito turned to L and then said with a completely straight face, _«Voici mon garde du corps, Grigoriy.»_ (This is my bodyguard, Grigoriy.)

_«Salut»_ (Hello) L said and waved at them.

Both priests looked as if they were struggling with the concept of someone as small as L being able to bodyguard anything. L did not fault them for it. He was actually counting on this reaction.

When he had told Raito what to say when introducing him, Raito with his almost nonexistent sense of humor had actually laughed at him… for a minute.

An entire minute.

So it was pretty safe to say that no one, including these men, would take him seriously after that. But that was fine. He did not need them to believe him, or notice him, or think he was too bright. His presence here should not affect the outcome of this meeting, or how many meetings it took to get that deathnote. Raito would be the sole determining factor and he did not want the priests to think that he was in some way Raito's advisor. That would lessen Raito's credibility as L.

And like L had predicted, it did not take long for both priests to forget he was even there, and turn their attentions back to Raito.

_«Je ne pensais pas vous rencontrer si tôt. J'étais quelque peu surpris lorsque M. Alixandre est venu me voir et m'a demandé un rendez-vous. Bien entendu, j'étais très heureux de vous voir prendre cette cause au sérieux Je ne savais pas trop quels liens il y avait entre ceci et votre demande – j'avais l'impression de marché dans le noir total»_ ( I did not think you would meet me so soon. I was somewhat shocked when Mr. Alixandre came to me and suddenly asked for an appointment. Of course, I am overjoyed that you have taken me seriously. I did not know if this and that had anything in common, so all of this has felt more like grasping at straws.)

Raito nodded his head and let the man continue.

_«J'ai parlé à l'évêque de cette église à propos de ce… livre, même si je savais, je risquais de perdre mon travail en faisant cela. Il m'aprié de rien dire» _(I talked to the Bishop of this church about the… book, even though I knew I could lose my job for sharing a confessional with another. He told me to keep quiet about it) the Father said in a small voice. _«Mais plus j'avançais dans la lecture de ce livre, plus je réalisais que je ne pouvais rester muet au sujet de tout cela. J'ai donc commencé par m'informer par-ci, par-là. Je crois avoir créer une vraie commotion – il pourrait avoir plusieurs rumeurs qui circulent à mon propos présentement…»_ (But the more I read through that book, the more I realized that I could not keep quiet. I started to ask around. I made some horrible noise about it – there might be some rumors floating around about me now,) the Father said with a laugh.

_«Si ce n'était de votre franc-parler, j'aurais manquer ma chance. Mais Père Ignatius,»_ (If it were not for your outspokenness, I would have missed this important chance. But Father Ignatius,) Raito said, looking troubled, _«Vous avez mis votre vie en danger en tentant de trouver quelqu'un qui voudrait bien vous écouter et je croisqu'il faudrait considérer vous placer sous protection --»_ (You've put your life in danger for the sake of getting someone to listen, and I think you should consider letting me take you into protective custody –)

The Father shook his head. _«Je vous en prie M. Nikolai, je suis un prêtre. Si je dois quitter mon église, je n'aurais alors plus rien. Ma vocation est celle de servir Dieu et c'est la seule chose qui me donne une raison de vivre.»_ (Please Mr. Nikolai, I am a priest. If I am taken away from my church, then I have nothing left in my life. My calling to God is the only thing that gives my life purpose.)

L suspected as much. If the Father would not even come to meet him, then there was no way he was getting him to leave this church for a longer period. Raito knew this as well, but offered anyway, to show how charitable "L" could be.

_«C'est vrai,»_ (That's right,) Father René agreed. _«Père Ignatius a un bien grand dessein pour cette église. L'obliger à s'en aller nous affecterait tous, surtout pour ceux qui sont venus spécialement pour le voir prêcher.»_ (Father Ignatius has a greater purpose at this church. To take him away would rob us all, especially those who come to see him preach.)

_«Bien sûr. Je ne voulais rien imposer par ma proposition.»_ (Of course. I did not mean anything by it) Raito said to René, more than he did to the Father, for it seemed the younger man had taken great offense to even the idea of the Father leaving.

_«Je ne sais pas trop à propos du grand dessein, mais je ne veux point quitter ma maison; et j'en suis sûr, surtout depuis que ce monde est devenu un tel chaos.»_ (I do not know about greater purpose, but I do not want to leave my home; even more so now, since this world is in such chaos.)

_«Malgré le chaos, vous avez plongé tête première et offert une assistance. Je dois vous avouer, Père Ignatius, bien peu aurait fait autant que vous.»_ (But despite the chaos, you have stepped in and offered assistance. I have to commend you Father Ignatius, not many would put everything on the line as you did.)

And the flattery commences.

L had been waiting for it and Raito surely did not disappoint.

The Father looked like he did not know how to respond, so he laughed and dusted his knees as if he suddenly did not know what to do with his hands.

Hmm, humans really were predictable creatures. Give them a compliment and they were suddenly at a loss for worlds. L was thankful that he was immune to Raito's silver tongue. It appeared as if he was the only one sometimes.

_«J'étais plus apeuré que brave,»_ (I was more scared than brave,) Father Ignatius admitted. _«Il est difficile de rester calme quand je pense à tout ceux qui ont péri à cause de…»_ (It is hard to stay calm when I think how many have died because of…) He looked over at L and the gesture was meant to show that he was alluding to the deathnote. _«Je n'ai aucun doute que ce livre est une pure invention du Diable.»_ (I have no doubts about that book being a thing of pure evil.)

L thought that he and this Father would get along just nicely.

_«Mais»_ (But) the Father added, _«Je ne peux m'empêcher de me penser que nous sommes tous sujet à un test de Dieu. Ce pourrait-il qu'Il nous teste afin de voir si nous sommes réellement dignes de Son royaume?»_ (I also find myself wondering if we are being tested by God. Could it be that God is testing us to see if we are truly worthy of His kingdom?)

_«Je me suis demandé la même chose. Il semble trop cruel que Dieu n'agirait point là-dessus, mais je ne peux que souligner à quel point nous avons été odieux à Son propos.» _(I've wondered that myself. It seems too cruel to believe that God would let this happen to us, but I cannot overlook how cruel we've been to Him.)

Those were some pretty bold words for a Kira suspect to say so easily. He could take it as Raito not wanting to dismiss the Father's opinion, but L wanted to believe that this was Kira finally speaking his mind.

_«Si c'est un test, je dirais que ça fait longtemps que nous en méritions un,»_ (If it's a test, I'd say we were long overdue,) René said, but his tone made it hard to distinguish between sarcasm and seriousness.

_«Nous avons tous un penchant à faillir aux épreuves de Dieu»_ (We all have a penchant to fail the Lord's trials when given) the Father agreed, even though he may have been reading René's tone all wrong.

_«Laissez-moivous demander une chose, M. Nikolai, pensez-vousque c'est une personne qui commet tous ces crimes?»_ (Let me ask you something, Mr. Nikolai, do you believe that someone out there is committing these crimes?) Father Ignatius asked frankly.

_«Oui, sans le moindre doute, je croisquec'est un humain»_ (Yes, without a doubt, I believe that it's a person) Raito answered firmly.

_«Je suis d'accord avec vous alors»_ (I agree with you then) the Father said. _«Le péché originel est en chacun de nous et je ne peux voir qu'une répétition par toute cette folie.»_ (The original sin is within us all; and I cannot help but see a pattern to all this madness.) He took a breath and wrung his hands together.

_«Comme il est écrit dans la Genèse, Ève, quand tentée par le serpent, a cueilli la pomme de l'arbre interdit. Je crois que l'homme produisant ces horribles crimes fut aussi frappé par la même curiosité qu'Ève. Il a touché le pouvoir de la connaissance qu'aucun humain ne devrait avoir et, maintenant, utilise ce pouvoir contre tous ses compatriotes humains. Cette personne, peu importe qui elle est, a été corrompu par le Diable lui-même… elle est ensuite devenue le Mal, le serpent même de l'arbre. Peu importe son identité, je peux juste prier pour son âme maudite.»_ (As it is written in Genesis, Eve when tempted by the serpent plucked the apple from the tree of knowledge. I believe the person committing these horrible crimes -- they too have been stricken with Eve's curiosity. They have touched that power of knowledge that no human should have, have taken it inside themselves, and now they use that power against their fellow man. This person, whoever he or whoever she is, have been swept away by the devil himself. They have become the devil, the serpent on that tree. Whoever this person is, I can only pray for their damned soul.)

L watched Raito carefully throughout the priest's monologue, but of course, not a flash of guilt or anger betrayed the attentive features. If Raito was Kira, it had to sting a bit to be likened to the Devil. And considering how Kira was so passionate about his ideals of "justice," it made L wonder what was under Raito's cool exterior.

_L Do You Know Gods of Death Love Apples?_

He had once thought it was a code. If they were looking at it from the context of the parable "Adam and Eve" then the word "apple" could be switched out for "sin" and interpreted as "Death loves sin" or "Death comes for sinners."

But the more he thought about it from that view point, the more he thought he was missing something. It was far too simplistic. Kira did not want to state the obvious. Rather he wanted to taunt him with knowledge that he did not have. Taunt him with information that would not be readily accessible to him unless Kira himself explained it.

L turned his attention towards Raito again, composed in his chair and patiently listening to the Father.

In the Old Testament, it was innocent Eve, assailed by curiosity that brought destruction upon humanity by taking a simple bite out of an apple. If that were case, L had to wonder, what would seemingly innocent Raito bring upon humanity with an IQ of over 200 and the strong intention to kill anyone in his way?

L was not a person easily frightened, but if Raito turned out to be Kira, there was a good possibility that his death would be waiting around the corner for him. For that, he could not allow Raito a moment's respite. Kira was a plague on humanity. He was a dictatorship. And even if L himself had to descend down into that metaphorical Garden of Eden to uncover Evil, he would not relent.

_«Père Ignatius! Mon Père!»_ (Father Ignatius! Father!) A man suddenly shouted, voice booming inside church and footsteps becoming louder as he ran towards them.

_«Ah, Père Loring, que puis-je faire pour vous?»_ (Ah, Father Loring, what can we do for you?) René greeted.

Father Loring did not mount the steps, but stood at the base and shouted, _«Père Ignatius, le cardinal voudrait s'entretenir avec vous. Il m'a prié de vous dire que c'était urgent.» _ (Father Ignatius, Bishop Avice wishes to have a word with you. He says it is urgent.)

L noticed Raito watching the messenger closely.

The Father got up from his chair _«Est-ce que cela pourrait attendre, Père Loring. J'ai des invites--»_ (Can't this wait, Father Loring? I have guests --)

_«Mais c'est de plus haute importance pour l'Église du Vatican. Je vous prie, Père Ignacius, le cardinal désire vous parler immédiatement.»_ (But it is of utmost importance to the Church of the Vatican. Please Father Ignatius, the Bishop wishes to speak with you now.)

Father Ignatius turned despondently towards Raito and the boy smiled in understanding. _«Je ne voudrais pas vous retenir de vos devoirs plus longtemps, mon Père, nous allons donc prendre congé.» _(I do not want to hold you back from your duties, Father, so we will be taking our leave now.) Raito stood up and L followed behind with a last glance at the messenger.

Even with the great inconvenience it placed on them in terms of importance, they had to pass themselves off as common visitors. Still… L had never been bumped down on anyone's appointment sheets before. He thought snidely that he should naturally come first.

_«Père René, pouvez-vous accompagner nos invités jusqu'à la porte?»_ (Father René, can you please escort our guests to the main gates?) Father Ignatius ordered, despite the other priest's insistence for him to hurry.

_«Je m'excuse pour tout cela, mais s'il-vous-plaît, revenez à n'importe quel moment, quand vous aurez un peu de temps. J'ai peut-être parlé un peu trop et à cause de cela, je n'ai pu vraiment entendre votre point de vue. Je suis reconnu pour être un vrai jacasseur, mais je suppose que les prêtres le sont tous un peu.»_ (I apologize for this, but please come back whenever you have the time. I talked a bit more than I should have and because of that, I was not able to hear your side of things. I've been known to be a bit of a yammerer, but I suppose all preachers are.) The Father laughed at his own joke and Raito put his hand out to shake his.

_«Je viendrai donc avec la foule»_ (I'll be coming in with the crowds then) Raito said, so the Father would understand that he was coming in at the same time next week, without actually have to say it aloud.

"Dominus tecum," (The Lord be with you) the man bided.

Raito smiled and answered back, "Et cum spiritu tuo." (And with thy spirit.)

When the Father had left, René turned stiffly towards them, but Raito dismissed him with a parting, "Pax tecum, Servus Dei." (Peace be with you, Servant of God.) The words seeming cold in comparison to the warmth Raito had shown Ignatius.

Without even a glance backwards, Raito left. It did not take rocket science to figure out that René did not care to escort them, but Raito's behavior towards the man was something that L had never witnessed him use on someone. It was certainly frigid and a bit mean-spirited.

L did not know why, but he thought he kind of liked it.

"Raito-kun has left a very good first impression on Father Ignatius."

Raito continued to stride along, appearing deep in thought. The scarf around his neck was whipping around him, the cold wind snapping the ends in synch to his stringent steps along the pavement.

"I'll leave a better second impression," he promised after L had thought he was not paying him any attention.

"What poor luck we have to get interrupted," L commented, waiting for Raito to add his own thoughts.

"I have a feeling the church doesn't want us to have the notebook," Raito said waspishly, thinking along the same lines as him. "It's quite funny. How did they know the Father was there? He doesn't stick around for services after it's over, only for about five minutes, and then he always goes to pray at the grotto."

They knew this because of their own surveillance and Aiber's collected Intel from colleagues and churchgoers. With the Father such a long-standing figure at the church, his routine was commonly known.

The messenger had been hurrying to find the Father, as if he had no idea where he was, and yet the first place that he should have looked was never checked.

It was late November. Snowfall was heavy, and to not be speckled with snow, or track in any mud and slush from the grotto would be impossible if he was hurrying, as it seemed.

So the question was, how did that Loring fellow know where to find the Father if he had not checked the grotto? L remembered René had slipped out to go find chairs. It was conceivable that he had told someone and asked for the message to be passed to the Bishop about his "guests." Considering the Bishop had asked Father Ignatius to keep quiet about the deathnote, he was probably very unhappy with their presence.

"Mr. René was hostile towards us, don't you think?"

Raito snorted at that. L felt his mouth quirk up. Those brown eyes turned on him, almost black without the softness that Raito's gaze could offer. "Not even one meeting and we already have trouble."

L kicked a tuft of snow absently with his shoe. He watched a small pebble roll out, his eyes straying after it and to the side…

"Then Raito-kun won't want to hear what I have to say next?" L said funnily.

Raito gave him a weird look. "What?"

"It seems we are being followed."

**"What?" **

**

* * *

****A/n:** There goes the cliffhanger. All stories need at least one. I am currently looking down at the list of definitions I have. Why do I always have so many? I might as well start assigning homework for this story. And currently off in the distance, I hear some readers screaming in agony… 

**1. Book of Joshua –** The controversial topic in this book is God commanded Joshua to kill "anything that breathes" in the lands that would be inherited by the Israelites, and because of this, the Canaanites, who practiced sexual idolatry and sacrificed their children to the gods were conquered on the basis that they were seen as immoral.

**2.** **Grotto –** In Lourdes, it is an open cave where the statue of Mary is kept. The spring water that comes from the grotto is said to heal people, and the Catholic Church has officially recognized 68 healings. There have also been 18 sightings of the Mother Mary at this shrine by about 12, 000 people.

**3.** **Nikolai –** (Russian) name derived from the Greek goddess Nike (goddess of victory) Koyla is the pet name or nickname of Nikolai or Nicholas.

**4. ****Grigoriy** – (Rus.) this name means watchful or alert. It's derived from **Grigori**, which are a group of fallen angels that God sent down to watch over humanity, but ended up failing in their task, because they fell in love with mortals. God sends the great flood to wipe them out because the offspring begins to corrupt humanity. Grisha is the pet name of Grigoriy.

**5. ****Moya****Milaya**** –** Russian for sweetheart or darling

**6. ****Dorogaya**** –** (Rus.) Dear

**7. Parochial vicar -** an ordained priest assigned to assist the pastor.


	8. La Valse de la Séduction

_--The Waltz of Courtship--_

Despite the discoveries he had made during his first encounter with the Father, being shafted further observation time by that Bishop Avice had put Raito in a foul mood.

He had been busily looking for the car, faint annoyance urging him to hurry along the path, so when L had dropped another problem in his lap, he was not as quick on the uptake as he should have been.

"Are you sure?"

"Quite. They were seated on the benches right outside the entrance. I noticed them stand up when we started on the path, but I did not think much of it, since many take this way.

"When we went through the gates, they were still following us, but again that is normal; many people take this path. But I intentionally stepped off the main path just now and they are still following us."

"How many?" Raito asked.

"Two."

It was hard to spot those two if they were keeping a good distance between them. L _had_ to be going on more than he was letting on.

"Where is Watari parked? I thought he would be waiting in front of the church for us, but I don't see him anywhere."

"Oh, right." L turned to him. "I told him to get out of the area if he saw any suspicious activity. It's the reason why I was so cautious on coming out here."

"You did _what_?" Raito asked and couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What are you thinking? These guys could have guns and you tell your driver/bodyguard to ditch you in the middle of –"

"It's a precaution to keep them from tailing us back to the hotel. Don't worry, Raito-kun; I don't expect they will open fire on us in public."

Raito narrowed his eyes. "You don't expect -- are you insane?" because he had to get that off his chest right now. "They could be armed and you think it would be a good idea to take a stroll. L, call Watari this instant."

L touched a finger to his bottom lip. "Raito-kun did say some time ago that he wanted to go sight-seeing. I could take Raito-kun out on our very first date."

**"…" **

"L, you have five seconds," Raito warned.

"Raito-kun sure is a bossy spouse," L baited. "He's lucky he has a face like he does -- it makes up for his personality."

"One second."

"I'm actually curious to see what you will do to me if I don't pick up my phone," L admitted, but his mouth deformed into an 'uh' when he was properly reacquainted with Raito's not-so-happy face.

He put both hands up in a pacifying gesture. "Wait a minute, Raito-kun. Despite the fact that it would get me a date with you, I'm looking at it from a practical viewpoint. We don't want our followers, who are most likely from the church, to think we suspect them. We should play along – and it's not as if we're completely defenseless if it comes down to that."

The weight strapped to Raito's lower back attested to L's unperturbed state, as it had been decided earlier that morning that he should be the one to carry the gun.

Now, how the detective came to this conclusion, he wasn't exactly sure, but it probably had something do with L's twisted sense of irony.

After all, he was notorious for doing the polar opposite of what was expected of him.

Raito naturally had resisted the idea, but after gradually being worn down by persistent rejoinders, he finally gave up. The way L had handled the issue with him that morning, Raito was certain he was being mocked; the implicit jeer at his back something along the lines of: 'this is a gun. Here. But you _obviously_ can't use it on me, like I believe you want to, because I am practically invincible to you at the moment. Now please wait a moment while I turn my unguarded back towards you. Lalala…'

It royally pissed him off, but Raito had risen above L's vast immaturity and remained generally polite. He had even been capable of keeping his fists out of things as L followed up his declaration with a methodical explanation of how to handle said weapon.

_"Raito-kun is a fast learner, so this should not take much effort on my part," L said, as he held the gun up, pointed it at the wall and aimed. "Keep your finger outside the trigger guard at all times," L wiggled the finger and then grabbed an empty cartridge off the table. "Since this is a semi-automatic, you have to insert the magazine from here." L pointed at the base of the handle and snapped the cartridge into place with the heel of his wrist. "Load the chamber by pulling back the slide and releasing it." He showed him how, and then held up the gun again. "Make certain t__hat your thumb clears the slide__ or you'll lose it__ and I'll have to answer to an ang__ry Misa-san about that," L said__ and did not break his speech, even though that last part was…supposed to be a joke? "Align the front sight with the rear." L squeezed the trigger in a swift motion. "When pulling the trigger, do it at a sure pace. It is best not to hesitate. When firing, always take two shots, one after the_ other _– preferably to the head, since bulletproof vests are quite sturdy. Two quick shots to the head also ensure that the person won't get back up again," L briefed. He then handed the gun over to him_.

For all his put-on goofiness, L was one scary bastard when he chose to be. Raito remembered also feeling a similar disquietude settle over him when he had watched L fly a helicopter.

Although L's prior aura of professionalism had lasted as long as it took for him to spit out a melon seed in his hand and drop it on his plate with a distasteful 'bleh.'

Obviously, he wasn't dealing with any James Bond here.

Setting aside the stupidity of this morning and the raging stupidity at the current moment, Raito put his game face on.

"So… you want to take me out on a date?" he asked, turning from ornery to charming in no time flat.

"When one is trying to court a person, it's usually the way to go," L lectured. "I don't want to seem like I'm only in it for the sex." The look on his face said otherwise. "I spent five years in London society for tennis, so the qualities of an English gentleman are something I tend to fall back on in these types of situations."

English gentleman, _my ass. _

"Is that so?" Raito questioned, fascinated by L's poker face. "And here I thought this was going to be the simple take me out, get me something to eat, and then walk me home."

L glanced over at him, undoubtedly amused. "It works on the same principle." He paused. "But there is no taking back to_ your_ home type of thing."

The smile that made its way to Raito's face in response to that last comment would have made every girl he had ever taken out instantly wary of his motives for the night. L did not look cautious of it; on the contrary, he appeared to be anticipant.

"But I'm not given much choice. Not when I _have _to go home with you," Raito reminded with a bit of rebellion, because let's face it, main suspects weren't known for their free will.

There was a substantial break before L spoke again.

Then:

"So if we met on the street, Raito-kun wouldn't want to come home with me?" he asked, as if he did not understand how that could possibly be.

"That would be a normal response," Raito told him.

L took another pause. "But I would eventually get you to come home with me?"

Raito laughed. "Do I look like the type of person that would go home with strangers?"

L considered this; the fact that he was considering it slightly ticked Raito off. "But charming strangers aren't a common thing," L concluded. "Not when the charming stranger is offering to take you out to breakfast."

"Then where would this charming stranger be?" Raito looked over at L expectedly to see if he would reveal the 'charming stranger.'

"The charming stranger is shy and will remain anonymous for the time being, but he does wish to take Raito-kun out to breakfast," L said, as they both came to a stop at a crosswalk. L glanced around them and his eyes instantly locked upon their destination for the morning.

"French cakes are very good." L stared like a man possessed at the patisserie across the street and asked, "Does Raito-kun want to go there?"

Oh please. Like he had any say in the matter. "But I know you do."

"Raito-kun knows me very well."

**…………****…………………………………..**

Inside the patisserie was warm. Raito was thankful for that as he slipped off his gloves and rested them on his lap. He shrugged off his coat next, and as he did so, he watched the door, confident that the men following them would not come inside.

They would rather stay out of sight while having the free range to guard the front and back entrances. It was what Raito would do if he were in their shoes.

Although, what unpleasant shoes it must be, Raito thought, since those two would have to stand and patiently wait out in the cold for their return. Raito did not hold back the soft laughter for the mental image his thoughts afforded him. L would know exactly what he was chuckling over.

"I almost feel sorry for them, sitting out in the cold, while we're about to eat cake."

"Yes, I feel sorry for them too," L agreed, and promptly turned towards their server. _«Je vais prendre la Bûche de Noël aux framboises.» _(I'll have the Raspberry Bûche de Noël.) He glanced down at the menu and pointed at another cake. _«Et puisque Noël approche, cela ne fera pas de mal de prendre celle au café aussi. Comme boisson, ce sera un thé noir de l'Assam avec un peu de lait je vous prie.»_ (And since Christmas is approaching, it wouldn't hurt to get the Coffee Bûche de Noël: as well. For my drink, I'll take Assam tea with milk please.)

_«Et vous, monsieur?» _(And you sir?)The server asked.

_«Le Kugelhopf et un café noir.» _(The Kugelhopf and I'll take my coffee black.)

_«C'est tout__ Raito-kun? Regardez, ils ont un Snobbish au chocolat. Je pense que ce gâteau vous est destiné__.» _(Is that all, Raito-kun? Look, they have chocolate snobbish. I think that cake was destined for you.)

Ha ha. Very funny, jerk-off.

Raito smiled at the server and agreed to add the _destined_ cake to his platter.

It did not take long for their cakes to be brought out, but it did take them quite some time to finish, with L ordering more and him contributing to that pile.

"I completely forgot about the time. Those men must be frost-bitten by now."

"Let's hope not. Or I won't have an excuse to take Raito-kun anywhere else."

"So what's next?" Raito asked, as they exited the café.

It was entirely easy to ignore the presence of their followers, all the sugar and flour he digested a moment ago contributing to that mindset, as sweets did tend to make him lethargic; that had to be the reason why he felt so relaxed right now.

Or possibly L had slipped him a roofie.

Which he did not find impossible.

"Does Raito-kun remember seeing an old movie house when Watari drove us here?"

"Mm," Raito nodded his head. Then he woke up considerably when he saw a carriage trotting past and stopping at the street across from them.

Christmas was around the corner and this part of Lourdes was rather old-fashioned, so a carriage wasn't at all out of place.

"Look, a pony," L pointed with a childish smile on his face.

Raito slowly turned to gawk a bit at the detective, partially horrified and awed that a grown man could utter such a line and not break some unmentioned law of the universe that forbade adults from using the word 'pony' to describe a horse.

When he looked beside him for L, he found he was no longer there, the detective already crossing the street and heading towards the carriage.

Raito would have outright objected, but after stepping into the carriage and watching their followers panic off in the distance and run to catch up, while keeping a safe distance, he had a change of heart.

After asking the driver to slow down to a trot because he wanted to enjoy the scenery, L turned towards him conspiringly, an impish grin on his face as he whispered, "I don't want to discourage them, but neither do I want to make it too easy."

"They were probably harmless by the start of all this, but after your cake stop and what I suppose is a very refreshing blitz through the snow, they'll probably want to strangle us."

Raito glanced through the curtained window at the rear of the carriage and laughed a bit when he watched the men scurry after them. It was mean of him, but he'd never said he was very nice.

He caught L staring at him and turned towards detective.

"Raito-kun has a nice laugh."

It was strange that L had said that, especially since he made it a habit to appear carefree in front of him.

"You act like I've never smiled before," Raito told him, trying to keep his voice airy.

"No, I've seen you smile many times," L said and left his sentence to dangle.

What _exactly_ did that mean?

"Why did Raito-kun stop laughing?"

Like it wasn't obvious.

Raito felt his bad mood returning with a vengeance.

He closed his eyes in exasperation and leaned some on L's shoulder to hide his darkening features. The detective made an inquisitive noise in the back of his throat, but Raito preemptively shut him up by pressing his forehead against his arm.

He heard L inhale and shift in his seat.

"Don't fall asleep there, Raito-kun. If the driver goes over a road bump, you'll fall flat on your face and it will be unpleasant."

Apparently he spoke too soon.

**…………****………………………………**

"Raito-kun, our followers appeared hesitate to walk in here. Do you suppose they're not a big fan of romance?"

Raito shrugged. "They're probably wondering why we came. It seems funny that 'L' is going on a tour. But I suppose they can't complain. It gives them a better chance to gather information." He then turned towards L, "and why exactly did you want to come here?"

"I'm taking Raito-kun on a date. Precepts demand there should be a movie involved… or a very dark room." L had bought candy and was now snacking on a box of chocolate raisins. Raito could only stare in wonder.

"What exactly do you want to do in a dark room with me?" Raito asked slyly.

"I want to watch the movie of course," L told him matter-of-factly and held up a chocolate raisin to inspect it. Then he added, as if he had forgotten, "Oh and there's the occasional act of making out during the boring parts. Thankfully, I picked the most boring movie I could find, so we should get started right -- ow."

L rubbed his arm where he'd gotten pinched. "That hurts. What did I do to warrant such an unfriendly attack from you?"

"This is reality, not fantasy-land," Raito informed him.

"I was only kidding. Our two friends sitting up in the last rows make it impossible for me to act on any ulterior motives. They are like two guardian angels protecting Raito-kun's chastity."

Raito gave him a warning stare.

"Ah but I've suddenly resolved myself to only gazing upon Raito-kun. My hands will be here." L held out the notorious hands and put them out for inspection, as if Raito needed to check if they were counterfeits.

"You're ridiculous," Raito said around a half-hearted sigh. "And to think, I would have let you get to third base if you hadn't given up so easily," he teased.

There was a thoughtful pause. "I retract my previous statements. The boring movie is about to begin. If Raito-kun is feeling generous, he should let me score a -- ow."

L rubbed his arm in the same spot. "This is not what I had in mind when I asked Raito-kun to the movies."

"Shush, the movies starting" Raito reprimanded. He faced front and heard L mumble, "do not shush me," while chewing unnecessarily on a chocolate raisin.

An hour into it and Raito turned to the detective. "Wow, this is awful."

"Raito-kun is regretting not taking me up on my making-out idea," L recalled. He was now eating jellybeans.

Raito eyed the jellybeans. "I turn my back for two seconds and it seems you bought out the entire snack bar. What else do you have in there?"

L looked at him. "The secrets to the Bermuda triangle."

"Sorry I asked," really he was. He turned back to the movie.

"How did this plot development come up?" Raito questioned languidly, as his brain could only go so many hours on standby.

"I believe Sophia's air conditioning unit is broken. This is the reason why she has suddenly taken her top off."

"So how do you explain the man on her bed?"

"He is checking her covers for pesky dust bunnies."

"Hmm, now she's checking for dust bunnies."

"Look her husband has arrived."

"He pulled out a gun."

"Probably to take care of the pesky dust bunnies."

"Then the husband should aim his gun somewhere else."

"Look, the lover was shot during sex -- how anti-climatic."

"Bad."

"What? The movie?"

"No, your sense of humor."

"Raito-kun should not criticize what he does not have."

"Whatever -- and you just made me miss further plot developments."

"Then I will inform Raito-kun that the husband is taking Sophia back."

"I feel indignant for the husband then."

"At least the director put in a funeral scene for the unfortunate lover."

"It doesn't take them long to fall into bed, does it?"

"What this movie lacks in plot, character development, acting, innovation, visuals and replay value, it makes up for in porn."

"Now I know why you picked it."

"Raito-kun has caught me -- that Sophia woman is my type." L tilted his head.

"So is that the only thing you noticed about her character?"

"No, I noticed she has a rip in her stockings. I think it symbolizes the rip in their love."

"You're giving this movie depth. Stop it."

**………****……………………………………**

They talked the entire movie. And then they'd walked into another one for the hell of it and criticized the pants off that one too. By the time they were outside, it was dark, so they decided to take a subway to downtown Lourdes.

The pavement was crowded in this part of city. People decked out for a night on the town swamped the streets, carousing and darting in and out of the shops and eateries that lined the boulevard.

"Let's say goodbye to our escorts now," L told him.

"I hope you're not planning to make a run for it," Raito quipped, since he knew L would prefer another option.

"No, but let us follow these young people." L motioned towards the large group of woman in front of them and like both had assumed, it did not take long for them to follow the partygoers into the club district.

"Raito-kun, please work your magic," L said, as they came up to the entrance. Raito sighed so L would think he had a bone to pick with his methods, even if he preferred it this way.

He then "accidentally" bumped into one of the girls at the back of the group.

_«Désolé, je suis tellement maladroit,» _(Sorry, I'm so clumsy,) he apologized, smile and hands to steady busy at work on his target.

_«T'inquiètes pas pour ça,» _(Don't worry 'bout it,) she reassured. She took notice of his suit and Raito made a nervous gesture.

_«Il semble que je sois un peu trop habillé.»_ (I'm overdressed it seems.)

She laughed at that, and all the while this was happening, they had smoothly entered the club, with the bouncers believing they were a part of the large female-populated group.

L made a signal towards the bathroom and Raito excused himself politely from the new _friend_ he had picked up.

Raito was not surprised to see that their followers were nowhere to be seen. Again, they were more than likely guarding the entrances. Any club was a closed-off building, simply for the fact that owners did not want people sneaking into entrances unmarked by bouncers. Their followers would feel safe in leaving them inside, but they were certainly not going to feel that way soon.

They entered the bathroom and L casually went to wash his hands, as Raito stood off to the side and watched a group of boys enter. It took a minute for everyone to clear out until there were only two stranglers. L shook his hands out and dried them on the inside of his jacket. He then approached the two stranglers and suddenly began speaking to them. Both seemed completely caught off guard by the detective, but after awhile, they stopped looking at him as if they were going to back away slowly.

All of a sudden, L waved him over. _«Raito-kun, ces messieurs sont assez courtois pour nous prêter leur manteaux.» _(Raito-kun, these gentlemen here are gracious enough to lend us their attire.)

Raito had no idea how L had gotten them to do that. L was an expert at handling people, even if his social skills were usually put on the backburner to simmer. Although, Raito was certain his easy persuasion had something to do with money.

Clearly not in the mood to mess around, Raito shouldered off his coat and handed it over to one of the boys. It took roughly five minutes for them to completely switch out.

_«Mortel» _(Cool) one of the boys responded, as he gazed down at his new threads. L handed the other boy money, as Raito expected.

It could be easily assumed that they were now going to try to sneak out of the club with their new disguises, but knowing L, he was not the type of person to sneak. It would also be a poor get-away plan, as they did not have an absolute guarantee that they would not be spotted. It also did not help that both of them stuck out like sore thumbs in public, even in regular clothes.

When they got out of the bathroom, he noticed L searching around. Soon, the detective appeared to have found what he was looking for, as he veered to the left suddenly and towards the bar.

"What are you planning?" Raito asked, as he was not sure what L would do to get them out of here. He had his own ideas, but it was preferable to let L work.

"Things," L answered mysteriously and sat at the bar aside a lively group of females. Raito sat next to him and did not have time to respond when L suddenly burst into spirited speech.

_«Nikolai, reprends-toi, mec. Je suis venu pour faire la fête et tu tues l'ambiance en me parlant de ta copine top-modèle et à quel point tu t'ennuies d'elle et que tu chiales tous les soirs à cause de ça.» _(Nikolai, you need to cheer up, man. I came here to party and you're totally dragging me down with talk of your model girlfriend and how much you miss her and how you cry over her every night.)

Raito recognized this tone immediately and had to swallow a laugh, because L could speak like a regular college frat boy with the best of them.

Out of the corner of his eye, Raito noticed the girls, also at the bar, taking notice of them through L's ridiculously loud monologue.

Whatever L was planning needed his cooperation, so he would give it. _«Je suis juste triste sans elle» _(I'm just sad without her,) he said with a reasonable amount of depression laced into his voice.

_«Les relations à longue distance sont compliquées. Vous avez pas besoin de tout ce stress, spécialement avec le mannequinas qui est super dure» _(Long distance relationships are tough. Both of you don't need that kind of stress, especially when modeling is tough on you and her) L projected, and Raito saw one of the girls nudge her friend in the shoulder at the word 'model.'

_«Je pense à abandonner. Je suis pas fait pour les règlements de l'industrie. Je suis mannequin juste pour payer les emprunts faits au collège, mais là, on me veut pour des sessions photo Haute Couture, alors ça serait stupide de tout laisser tomber maintenant.» _(I'm thinking of quitting. I'm too simple for the politics that goes around in the fashion industry. I just did it to pay off my college loans, but then Haute Couture wanted me for some photo sessions, so I thought it would be stupid to pass them up.)

Haute Couture was the most prestigious modeling firm in Paris, so Raito knew that was bound to lift some eyebrows, and by the glances he was getting from the girls, he'd have to say it worked nicely.

_«Tu veux toujours devenir pédiatre? Mais pense à tout l'argent que t'aurais juste en faisant les beaux yeux devant la caméra. Il faut vraiment être fou pour vouloir foutre tout ça en l'air.» _(You still want to be a pediatrician? But think off all the money you could rake in for just winking at the camera. You must be nuts to want to give that up.)

Raito wanted to smirk so badly. _«C'est pas pour l'argent, Grisha. J'aime les enfants.» _(It's not the money, Grisha. I love children.)

He loved children as much as he loved criminals.

_«Alors, pourquoi t'en aurais pas à toi, si tu les aimes tant que ça__?»_(Well, why don't you have some of your own then, if you love them so much?) L hefted a thumb at the girls to the side of him and blatantly stared._ «Il y a plein de belles filles et monsieur pleure sur une seule.» _(So many pretty girls and here you are moping over one.)

Raito tried to force a blush, but even he could not pull that off with his flawless acting.

He supposed some people just weren't meant to blush like a moron.

Though, he did put on quite a splendid show of being embarrassed. _«Grisha, dérange pas ces filles. J'aimerais tant que tu sois plus discret.» _(Grisha, don't bother those girls. I wish you had more shame.)

_«Mais elles sont jolies, Nikola__i. Si tu ne les regardes pas, __a__lors__ qui __va__ le faire__?»_ (But they're pretty Nikolai. If you don't stare at them, then who will?)

Some of the girls giggled. They obviously liked what L was saying, so he wasn't going to get slapped with any sexual harassment cases...just yet.

L was waiting for him to make the ice-breaker, so Raito smiled at the girls and asked them courteously, but jokingly, if they wanted him and his friend to leave and stop bothering them.

And as expected, they both were invited to join the circle of girls.

_«Voici mon __ami__ Nikolai__,»_ (This is my friend, Nikolai,) L introduced. He then pointed at himself rather stupidly._ «Et mon nom est Grigoriy, mais vous pouvez m'appeler Grisha.» _(And my name is Grigoriy, but you can call me Grisha.) He put out his hand to shake the hand of the girl closest to him and she laughed at the firm handshake she was met with.

_«Mon nom, c'est Candice» _(My name's Candice) she introduced with a slight creole accent.

_«Regarde Nikolai, son nom sonne comme _candy,_» _(Look Nikolai, her name sounds like candy,) L said, nudging him in the ribs, like this was cause to drop everything and celebrate.

He probably wanted to eat her.

_«Je pense que nous allons très bien nous entendre, Mademoiselle Candice,_» (I think we'll get along fine, Miss Candice,) L announced, and Raito wanted to laugh so badly that his mouth twitched.

An auburn was next and her name, strangely enough, happened to be Sophia.

L's reaction to this: _«Je vous ai vu dans un film._» (I saw you in a movie.)

There was no mistaking it. L acted so retarded around girls that Raito thought he'd die by just being near him.

The girl laughed, taking it as a compliment that she resembled someone on-screen.

There were three other girls in the order of Natalia, Margaret, and Cynthia. They were all friendly and very attractive, and Raito could appreciate that sort of thing, if they didn't have more important things to do, like for instance, escaping their tailers.

But L liked going at his own pace. He began to chat with the girls. He even ordered them drinks. Raito sat back and spoke with Sophia. L was speaking with the other four, practically at the same time, and pulling out bits of useless pop trivia that only he would know.

L was an endless well of stupid facts that amused people that were into that sort of thing. It still confused Raito how L had been able to spot Misa as a model so quickly and then make small talk about a cover she was in. Raito could dismiss anything that was not the news as worthless, but it never hurt to be up-to-date with what was going on in your generation.

A few minutes into things and Raito noticed that the bartender had just casually handed L a bottle of …150-proof alcohol.

Now what in the world was L planning to do with that?

L harmlessly set the bottle of Wormwood Blanche on the counter.

_«Nikolai semble bien s'amuser, finalement,» _(Nikolai finally looks like he's enjoying himself,) L remarked._ «Mais je pense qu'il devrait demander Sophia pour danser. Il me remercieras plus tard.» _(But I think he should ask Sophia to dance. He will thank me for it later.)

Some of the girls were also urging their friend to go along. Raito stared at L and instantly knew by his tone that he was planning something.

_«Serait-ce acceptable?» _(Would it be alright?) Raito asked, quietly earnest as he could, as most of the girls he'd encountered loved that innocent and shy tone from him.

_«Bien... oh oui» _(Well...oh sure) she agreed, peer pressure from her friends moving her and maybe the snare of attraction that Raito knew was not far in coming or had already hit.

He kept within a reasonable distance of L, because he wanted to keep an eye on him and also let L see that he was being harmless. They might not be handcuffed together, but it did not mean L trusted him. Far from it.

Raito put an arm around Sophia and warmly smiled down at her, while keeping his peripheral fastened to L. There would be a sign for sure.

It came five minutes later.

He noticed L had put his hand over his mouth and whispered over to the woman named Margaret, who had been smoking ever since they had spotted the girls. L then made a motion, like he wanted a cigarette…? Raito wasn't sure, since he had to look back down and see if Sophia had noticed his wandering eyes. She seemed content.

Raito focused his eyes back on L only to see that the Margaret woman was handing him her lighter and a cigarette. On taking the items, L's elbow knocked into the Blanche, the cap left _conveniently_ unscrewed and the bottle now spilling half of its contents on the floor and a small portion on L's pants.

Raito then watched the girls crowd around L in obvious concern when he had alerted them to his 'clumsiness.' He said something to Candice and the girl reached into her purse -- Raito hoped to pull out some mace, but unfortunately she took out a handkerchief.

Raito nearly stepped on Sophia's toe when he suddenly realized what L was about to do, and he could only watch in horror as L suddenly shouted, _«Devant la Vierge et le Bon Dieu, Nikolai, j'ai honte de toi.» _(In front of the Virgin and God, Nikolai, I'm ashamed of you.)

All the girls turned to stare at him to see if he was violating their friend as L had made it seem, giving L the perfect distraction to shove the cigarette into the bottle, cap it, and then tightly wrap the handkerchief around the neck. He flipped the lighter open, lit the handkerchief and chucked the bottle of highly flammable 150-proof alcohol in the corner so it shattered against the wall. The handkerchief now doused in alcohol went up in smoke that the fire sensors quickly registered as highly dangerous.

Oh cra-

Raito hadn't even been able to finish that thought, as the fire alarm suddenly went off and the sprinklers activated.

There was screaming, and crashing about, and people, wet and sliding out of the entrance and into the freezing cold.

L ran past him, jogged backwards, and pointed at the door. "Come Raito-kun. We have to get out with the frantic crowd now."

Raito thought angrily that a panicking crowd certainly did make the perfect shield for escaping. It also made the perfect irritant for his nerves.

They were sopping wet by the time they ran outside, and they did not stop running until they cleared the corner, no followers in sight.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Raito gasped, his breath coming out in cold puffs and his skin dripping water.

"Has Raito-kun never seen a Molotov cocktail before?" L wrung out a corner of his hoodie. "We should find someplace to dry off quickly, or we'll get pneumonia."

"Do you have any self-control? I mean, what if someone had gotten hurt with that stunt of yours? I can't believe you just threw that thing." The last time Raito checked they weren't some guerrilla faction.

"There were many ways we could have handled that situation. I went with the more surprising approach. Oh, and lets not speak of this in front of the others, I do not want them to know that I was throwing flaming liquor bottles around. That would not help my reputation."

Completely unbelievable.

Raito gave up the urge to slap L in the back of the head and resigned himself to simple chastisement. "I hope you at least send a bill for the damages."

"Watari will take care of it," L promised. He took out of his pocket the lighter he had used in his two-bit crime of arson and simply dropped it in a garbage can on the side of the street.

**…………****……………………….**

Once they were reasonably dry, they caught a cab to the hotel. It was only a few miles from where they had been, so the drive was a fast one. L made a phone call to Watari before they entered into the hotel. Raito assumed to turn off the cameras.

L entered through the main doors, surprised some bellhops in passing, and then made a beeline towards the staircase.

They had to climb eleven flights of stairs, which was not as much fun as running through fire-sprinklers and into the freezing cold -- insert the sarcasm wherever you like.

A date with L had already seemed like sketchy business, but having experienced it first hand had made Raito realize L really did live in his own world. To ask him on a date when they were obviously being followed and to then throw a Molotov cocktail into a packed club...

Raito had gone some drastic lengths to prove his innocence, but even he had batted a few eyelashes at L's methods.

"Raito-kun, we have reached the end of our date," L said, as they mounted the last platform that would lead to their floor. "But no date is finished without a certain something," and instead of opening the door, L stood there and watched him.

Hmm, considering how their date had gone so far...

"Are you going to throw man-eating ants at me? It would go well with the sprinklers and the frostbite."

L scratched the side of his face. "No, that was not what I had in mind. Those would be hard to find." Pause. "Did Raito-kun not have fun?"

"I had as much fun as I should have had while being tailed by two men." And that was saying a lot. Usually he hated dates, but he had been entertained by this one. L was good at amusing (frightening) him. There was certainly never a dull moment to be had.

"So it was successful." L appeared to congratulate himself on a job well done. "I should get a reward."

Raito smirked at how quickly L was able to come to a consensus that he should get a reward. He then leaned forward so he was in L's personal space and whispered, "Close your eyes and I might give it to you.

"No, I prefer to watch," L told him flatly, and Raito pulled back slightly so he would get the picture.

"I will close my eyes now," L placated.

Raito leered when L did as he was told. He had an urge to just pat him on the head and leave his reward at that, but L was being remarkably obedient (for him) and a well-trained L did put him in a better mood.

Raito licked his lips, leaned over, waited until L had an impatient look on his face, and then captured his mouth swiftly.

L's hand immediately went for the back of his neck, trying to move his mouth the way he wanted it, but Raito nipped at the soft skin under his lips in warning and L loosened up on his hold.

L moved a step backwards, taking Raito with him, his back bumping up against the wall, but his mind obviously distracted by other things.

Raito deepened the kiss with a slide of tongue, one hand absently trailing down L's side and the other palm spread on the wall and bracing him up. He tilted his head, felt something warm and wet slip into his mouth, and rubbed it with his tongue. L appeared to enjoy the attention to that part, breathing erratic and ending with a groan as Raito parted his lips even more and slowly sucked on the organ.

The mouth moving against his seemed to get even hotter and Raito pressed closer to L, felt the detective's heartbeat through his clothes, the heat from the fingers around his nape, and the jolt singeing through his blood.

After a minute of thorough, bone-deep exploration, Raito slid his mouth off the tongue between his lips and leaned back with a sigh. He blinked L out of the haze of arousal that consumed his vision and found the detective staring back at him, eyes wider than he'd ever seen them, breath heavy, and mouth hinting at some color and a bruise. His mouth also felt raw as he passed his tongue over it, certain that it was red from the kiss.

Still leaning up against the wall in a daze, L swallowed and breathed out, "I hope those men follow us again. I very much want another date with Raito-kun."

Raito laughed at that and promptly opened the door. He walked out, but turned around to call out, "Are you going to stand there all day with that dumb look on your face?"

L scratched his head. "I could. My legs aren't cooperating." Despite those words, L pushed himself off the wall. Raito watched him drag his thumb over his lips and end at the corner, before pressing the pad of that thumb into his mouth and probably tasting the last traces of the kiss.

L walked past him and Raito aimed a smug smile at his back. "If you liked it that much," he purred, "I hope your head doesn't explode tonight."

**

* * *

****1. Raspberry ****Bûche**** de Noël:** -- Chocolate cake filled with raspberry flavored cream and covered with a rich chocolate glaze. Serve with raspberry purée on the side. 

**2. Coffee Bûche de Noël: --** Chocolate cake filled with coffee flavored cream and iced with chocolate.

**3. Kugelhopf **-- An Almond & Raisin Cake from Alsace

**4. Chocolate Snobbish** -- A light chocolate cake made with almonds & prunes.


	9. Une illusion contraignante

_--The Illusion that Binds-- _

A false sense of security…

It was one of the many methods L used in his attempts to confuse him.

How did Raito know this? How was he so certain?

He was now taking a shower without a cuffed L waiting outside the curtains -- a first in a very long time.

Raito, turning the shower nozzle off, could faintly hear L in the other room, his gravelly voice slipping through the slightly ajar bathroom door; he was speaking to Aiber, the man's phone call the reason they were up at dawn and Raito was showering.

This was not the first of L attempting to make him drop his guard in this way. It had been steadily going on since they had made that agreement (not to say that L hadn't used the tactic before all of this) but the only difference from then and now was that he used it more frequently.

For instance, a few days ago, L had given him his case journals.

Raito had always assumed that L was the same age as him, or younger, because of his appearance and his fluctuating maturity levels. But with the assumption that they were around the same age, the case dates that Raito had run across in his journals were quickly making him change his estimate. There were many cases in 1993 that, if Raito had guessed L was the same age, would have meant L was seven when he solved them. Seven! L was a genius, but seven was a bit too much.

So Raito concluded by the timeline he had summed up so far, that L had to be in his mid- twenties. It was unbelievable, considering that this was L he was talking about, a man who looked like he was barely hitting sixteen and ate cake like it was going out of style.

He had also let it "slip" that he had stayed in London. The last time he had told him England, but now he'd reduced it down to a city.

L was carefully picking and sharing harmless bits of information. Raito guessed since they had gone to bed, he was putting up countermeasures against him. Giving him these small favors of information, so he would think the detective was going soft on him. Trying to fool him into thinking they were becoming securer with each other with this new dynamic in their relationship.

He wouldn't fall for that, and L knew he wouldn't fall for that, but he would try nonetheless.

Wrapping a towel around his waist, Raito stepped over the raised tile separating him from the floor, his feet immediately touching down on the fluffed-up teal rug awaiting him.

The door was closed with only a sliver of light creeping in, that line of luminance crawling across the floor similar to the false sense of security L offered with his turned back and his soft voice steady through the walls…

It all started off small, but –

Raito watched the line grow by his own actions as he opened the door, until that light encompassed his shadow and he was apart of it.

He stepped into the bedroom.

"… regulars at Lourdes. I do not plan to have them picked up. The church will act even more hostile towards our presence if we announce our intentions so boldly. I also do not want to stir up things between the Father and his church, so I will leave these matters alone and concentrate on retrieving the murder-notebook.

"No, it should be fine. Yes. It will be next Sunday. Yes. He is doing a better job than I think even you could." L glanced over at him. "He is my trump card. Yes." There was a long pause. "I will have to ask you to not mention that again, or I will send Watari after you." Pause. "Yes, that was a threat. Goodbye Aiber."

L snapped his cell phone close and promptly patted the spot next to him on the bed.

"Does Raito-kun wish to know the names and addresses of our friendly escorts from yesterday?"

Raito took the spot promised to him, along with the file L had suddenly produced, and glimpsed over the included profiles. "A Mr. Matthieu Laurent and a Mr. Paul Girard. Hmm… they're absolutely clean."

Raito flipped through more dossiers. Ten more to be precise. As research was now geared towards a certain Bible study group that their tailers attended regularly at Lourdes. And when Raito used the expression Bible study group, he used it loosely, as the group was not typical. For one there were no women in the group. The men were also ranging in their late twenties to early thirties; this limited age scale, along with the no women implying they were an exclusionist party.

But those reasons were all speculation and not solid enough to start an investigation. No. What had brought their attention to the group, instead of them looking into their followers as separate cases, was the fact that Father Rene headed the study group. It was not hard to figure out after that who had hand-selected those two men to go after them.

It also did not help Father Rene in the suspect poll when his topic of discussion for his group the very evening they were being tailed revolved around Kira.

Come on.

Raito tried not to laugh out loud at the absurdity of this man. Of all the things to do in one afternoon, you do not hire men to follow L and then turn right around to rant about Kira. Did he even know the meaning of the word covert? Did it ever cross his mind that he was being monitored? Did he want to kill him with laughter? Because it looked that way.

Raito rested the file on his lap and asked L "What are you going to do?" to get away from his urge to laugh at Father Retard.

"The same thing I've been doing for the past week," L replied. "I don't have much choice."

"Don't you think you're being a little reckless?" Raito warned, closing the folder and placing it to the side. "They could get violent."

Actually, he was counting on it.

"Yes, but I don't think they're organized or aware enough to stage anything at this point. So I shall continue to visit the Father."

Yes, L would not leave Father Ignatius alone until he had that deathnote in his hands. He would put his life in danger for it, but the way L saw it, those men posed no threat to him. And he was absolutely right. Those idiots couldn't plan their way out of a paper bag, much less figure out a way to deal with L without getting killed in the process. The farce of tagalongs that the Bishop had sent after them was proof of that.

Yet, what these people simply lacked was a leader who actually knew how to command and move them in the right direction.

Raito was planning to change that very soon.

"So the only thing we can do right now is wait." Raito fixed his eyes on the bathroom door, now wide open and showing off the porcelain sink and a blue cup with two hotel toothbrushes.

With a finger hanging off his mouth, L slumped back and blankly stared up at the ceiling.

"Only ten percent of any case is action, while the other 90 percent is usually the preparation for it."

"We should go relieve Mogi-san of surveillance duty then."

Raito made to stand, but a hand from L stopped him, pale fingers now wrapped around a corner of his towel and pulling lightly until the detective was able to get an arm around him. He felt L bury his nose in his lower back, a pout evident in his voice as he spoke. "Where is Raito-kun going?"

"He's going to do some work," Raito informed him, but quickly gave up on that idea when L's other hand wrapped around him from behind.

L nuzzled into his lower back and breathed out, "You smell good."

Raito put his hands on L's arms and turned in his embrace. He let the amusement show on his features as he lowered himself to sit on the bed beside the detective. "Last night not enough for you?"

"No, I was very satisfied. Raito-kun is a tomcat in bed." L interrupted himself to rub his feet together and then added, "But that was last night. Today is a new day."

"You can say it however you want, but last night is not _two_ in the morning," Raito corrected. "I only got four hours of sleep."

"I had less, but that is not what's important," dismissing him faster than he would artificial sweetener in his tea, L slid the drawer of the nightstand open. Raito had no idea why he was doing that, since the bottle of lotion was sitting on top of the dresser and staring them right in the face.

Although when he spied inside the nightstand, he immediately understood the detective's reasons.

Raito reached over L's shoulder and tossed a roll of condoms between them. "Now I'm just curious – when exactly did you have the time to buy these?"

There was also a tube of KY-jelly in the drawer.

Quick to evade his question, L began to tug on his towel and Raito grabbed onto the wrist of the hand busy at his waist. There was obviously something not connecting here.

"So how did Watari find out, you big mouth."

"I did not brag about it if that is what Raito-kun is thinking." L tried one more time to get his towel off and Raito pressed his hand to the mattress. Then L added plainly, "I told him I needed a few things and he went out and bought them for me – a very normal routine between us."

"Except it's not cake or faded jeans -- it's condoms and lube."

L gave him a disgruntled look. "That offends me somehow," but rising above the occasion in a mature-like fashion (since he could not kick Raito in this position) he continued on. "Watari is very trustworthy. He will keep quiet -- although, he has not stopped criticizing me over the phone for it. He thinks since Raito-kun has such a proper upbringing and is so well mannered that I am clearly taking advantage of you. When really, it is I who is being –"

"L, what does this have to do with anything?" Raito interrupted. Then quick to point out, "And I might have come onto you, but you're the one who agreed to it. Don't act like I'm dragging you kicking and screaming into this."

L straightened up and smiled a bit at the tart reminder. "We are getting off topic," he said, and then tried to get them back on topic by yanking at his towel.

He knew what L was trying to accomplish by hinting at their nocturnal activities with his bodyguard. Watari was L's right-hand man, so if anything were to happen to the detective, then it would be his job to carryout the investigation or inform someone who could properly take the detective's place. L blabbing to Watari was something that he had foreseen.

L thought he was so smart, using Watari's knowledge to serve as his own warning that not only were his eyes on him, but Watari's as well. Raito was no stranger to scrutiny and neither was he a stranger at using that scrutiny for his own gain, so L could inform his Doberman of the details and Raito felt confident, even more so, that his plans were in no danger.

Raito could attempt to overturn every stone of doubt that existed between him and L. He could try to prove his innocence by pitting his wits against each singular string of logic that L had sewn neatly into this case. He could do that, or he could just take his evidence out in one fell swoop by going with his current plan. And part of that current plan was distracting the detective. He had far more pressing issues to attend to than jumping at every suspicion L set out before him, Raito thought, a smile implicit on his lips as he swiped the pack of condoms between them and tore one from the rest.

He had given L many nights of submission, and he would continue to for the sake of his plans, but at this turn of events, he was more than willing to try something different.

He had not thought L would actually get condoms since the detective seemed to enjoy taking him without. But how fortunate for him that L had gotten Watari to purchase them.

Raito was a naturally curious person; he was also an eighteen-year-old boy with a healthy sex-drive, so his curiosity in the different aspects of what sex involved was very normal. And certainly part of that typical interest involved a perspective change, as in, what L felt during the process.

Of course, Raito did not want to jeopardize the work he had done so far with this new pursuit, but certainly it would be weird if he didn't want to at least try this once, or twice, by the looks of things.

He more than enjoyed what he and L did on a regular basis, but some of the noises and the things the detective said when he was inside him -- it did not take massive amounts of empathy to see that L really (really) enjoyed having sex with him.

And try as he might to be satisfied with what he was given, Raito felt the need to have more. It was something foreign to him. He was not used to desiring things for the pure sake of it, but he supposed he was at that age where his body was ruled by hormones.

And really, what harm could there be in allowing it if he was careful and used a condom correctly?

Raito tore the plastic wrapping off the condom with his teeth and got L's attention faster than if he had turned his head himself.

"I don't think it's right for one human being to possess so much sex appeal," L brooded, a thumb ghosting over his mouth before he made up his mind to do something about the inherent crisis this situation posed.

"I must investigate."

Laughing a bit, because L was an idiot with a seamless poker face, Raito grabbed him by the front of the shirt and helped him along with his "inquiry."

In the ensuing kiss, Raito quickly lost the clingy towel.

He put his hands on L's shoulders and eased him back, the fact that he was naked and in his lap enough to distract the detective from thinking anything of it.

Raito slipped his hands under L's shirt, tugging the material up his chest and breaking away from his mouth so he could pull it over his head and toss it. The same were done to his jeans, his clothes now nothing but a pile on the floor. L did not seem to take notice, too busy trying to kiss and stare at him at the same time.

When they were together, it was normal for some clothes to remain on, as the 'heat of the moment' was only involved in getting them on the bed… or the floor, or against the wall, or whatever solid surface would permit them to continue.

Taking off clothes seemed time-consuming and a bit too intimate for what their relationship entailed, so it seemed like the valid choice to skip the experience all together and focus on other things.

Raito was not a shy person; at one point his heavily monitored room and shower were testaments to that, so undressing in front of L, there was nothing new there.

L began to sit up, which was not conducive to his plans, but which he would permit for the time being. Raito watched him as he tentatively ran a hand up his arm, down his chest, and then back and forth over his sides, like he was searching around for something.

"Raito-kun has a nice body. It is hard to tell he is so athletic looking under his shirt." L drew a finger over the dip in his stomach and followed that line of definition up to the center of his chest." It reminded him of a subtler version of a Greek statue, the lean firmness in his arms and sides graceful as they were strong.

"When Raito-kun grows up, I think I am going to be in a lot of trouble," L quipped, as he passed his hands down his sides again.

"Who says you're not in trouble now?" Raito purred, wrapping both his arms around L's middle and resting his head on his chest.

"Then let's hope I stay in trouble."

Smirking at L's conclusion, Raito nuzzled him and began to nip his way down.

L had a slender build, his arms wiry, but with an outline of basic upper muscle in them. His chest and stomach were flat but in no way unshaped, the spare musculature he had finely delineated. In width of chest and waist they were the same size, the only difference would be that L was lankier and slimmer in some areas.

He was also a shade paler, his skin unmarred, not a blemish or scar in sight. Raito had an impulse to leave a mark, but then he would be making a hypocrite out of himself, as elbowing L away every time he tried to suck a bruise on his neck was a recent favorite of his.

The hands on the back of his neck had transferred their weight to his shoulders, but instead of encouraging his descent, they nudged him back slightly.

"I do not want to discourage your friskiness, but the lube." L glanced over at the nightstand and Raito raised his head to stare at him. It seemed that L wanted to jump straight to the main event, and not even a blowjob – something that seemed to be a big favorite – could distract him.

Exhaling, Raito lifted himself from L to scrounge around in the side-drawer. He had actually wanted to use foreplay to warm L up to the idea of letting him get top, but now with that plan kicked to the side, he might as well just come right out and say it.

"L?" he asked softly, as he turned around and faced the detective.

"Hm?" L held out his hand to take the lube and Raito immediately slipped into the space of his arms, quickly distracting him from the item asked for.

"I was thinking," he whispered, sultry voice dusting against L's ear, "would you like to try something different?"

"This different thing," L enunciated, as if the words stung him, "what does it involve?"

"Well, it involves me being on top," and to demonstrate his point, Raito again pushed L on his back.

"I have no problem with that," L told him and Raito could tell by his tone that he was ignoring the actual implications.

"You know what I mean," Raito said a bit firmly. After a minute (which was completely unnecessary) L gave him one of those faked 'oh' looks before he answered back "I have a problem with that."

Oh no you don't. "I feel like trying it this way," he causally offered, but at the same time opposing his tone by squeezing L tighter around the midsection and gazing up at him earnestly.

L glanced to the side, like he was trying to avoid the matter. He tilted his head, glanced to the side again. "It is hard to decide when Raito-kun makes a face like that." He scratched his head as if he were thinking about it some more, only to come up with the conclusion that "no, he did not want to try it that way."

Raito immediately fixed L with a gaze that would have withered the devil on the spot. "I wasn't asking," he stated.

L got a dopey look on his face. "Raito-kun is as pretty as he is scary."

Remembering his temper, Raito eased back into a more persuasive voice. "It's not that bad," he negotiated. "It actually feels good after you get used to it." He opened the tube and squeezed some into his palm, the substance cool, but warming up as he rubbed his fingers together.

"Then why don't you get use to it some more?" L added with that same dopey expression.

Raito dropped the lube on the bed and frostily stared at him. "Your other option would be I could just _not_ have sex with you."

L stared back. "I don't like that option.

Raito rolled his eyes and placed a hand on one of L's knees. He then bent over him and slid his hand lower and lower. "I promise you'll enjoy this," he whispered, fingers now feeling at the place he needed to go.

L tilted his head so his mouth was right under his. He smiled a little, which caught Raito off-guard, then he lunged forward and kissed him, open-mouthed and hard, which caught Raito even more off-guard.

Startled but not opposed, Raito recognized that L would want the distraction, so he allowed it.

Letting the detective control the kiss, Raito pressed and moved his fingers against the walls of his body. L was strangely relaxed as he continued his ministrations. However all that changed when Raito found his prostate.

"Hnn." L twitched under him and kissed him harder. Raito shifted and broke away from his mouth, his balance upset by L suddenly trying to pull him down. He propped himself up with the hand not in use and leaned into his ear.

"Does it hurt?"

L blinked and twitched again, but did not answer him. Although, a verbal response from L was not necessary, not when his body was already responding to him. Raito, wanting to further distract, rubbed a leg playfully against him, but L quickly halted the movement by grabbing onto his thigh.

"Not yet" he told him, voice hoarse. "Afterwards, when you're finished – I'll be taking Raito-kun then."

Raito smiled, as if he were a cat batting a mouse between sharp paws. "I'll be more than happy to give you your turn -- but only if you can last that long."

"Don't worry, you'll be on your back in no time," and to emphasize that claim, L ran his fingers up the curve of his spine, while at the same time his other hand was reaching out to retrieve the condom amongst the sheets.

After applying lubricant to it, L helped roll it onto his member and Raito had to swiftly bite back a gasp as he continued to touch him through the latex.

"Mm…stop." Raito snatched the troublesome appendage away, pinning it under his hand and trying to do the same to the other. But L had wrapped that arm around his back, and as he tugged him closer, he had an infinitely pleased look on his face.

Raito smiled back because he had an assured way of ridding him of that smirk.

L, it seemed, had a weak spot when it came to his ears, and Raito, taking full advantage of that knowledge, slipped his tongue into the canal and watched as he forgot how to breathe.

He was now beginning to press inside of him; L had locked both knees around his hips, and using the first impetus of his thrust, he helped him along.

Raito moaned, letting L pull him back down and then push up against him. His fingers scrambled for something to hold, only to end up clutching onto the arm thrown around his shoulders.

Raito let his eyes drift close, the tempo set by L the same pitch and cadence of taking a breath, a slow rise and fall that allowed Raito as much control over movement as it did L. The legs around his hips became tenser as they rocked back and forth, until L, digging his knees into his sides to find a better perch, consequently broke their easy rhythm.

Tightening his grip around L's arm, Raito used that support and drove back into him, their tempo resumed, but now faster.

He found L staring at him, a soft palm now touching his cheek and running down his neck.

L groaned something inaudible, ran his fingers through his hair and then yanked him down to his mouth. "You're close… you just need a little more…"

Raito closed his eyes against L's encouragements because he was right there, and just about anything would set him off at this point. He wanted it to last, he wanted it to not end yet…

But that build-up in the pit of his stomach wouldn't unclench, only wounding tighter with each thrust he managed and trust back L completed. His voice was escaping through his panting mouth, even when he clenched his teeth and fought hard against that throb of pleasure that seemed to be gradually separating him from himself, gradually pulling until thrust in and out were no longer two separate things.

His orgasm caught him off-guard, as most things with L normally did. Muscles in his lower stomach and legs contracting until the pull felt like tearing, as if skin from bone, so intense the wave was. Raito thought he had blacked out until he heard himself shout L's name and felt the sharp jut of a knee catch him in the ribs, L partially holding him up with his legs as he came.

Immediate pleasure burned hot under his skin like a flaring candle before death. The slow heat that rose to the surface in its place making him shudder and press down on the body under him.

He heard L groan, the sound rough and scratchy, like stone dragged over glass. Painfully erect and in need of relief from his own swarming desire, L tightened his hands around him and practically flipped them over. Raito huffed out an unappreciative swear at the sudden jostling, his skin too hypersensitive after climax for him not to.

He felt L's fingers at his entrance, the detective already prepping him with lubricant and the intensity of getting his prostate massaged was magnified by the fact that he'd just come and hadn't gotten any air to his lungs yet.

Raito pressed his hands against L's shoulders to get some breathing distance -- he just needed a minute, but L didn't seem to want to even spare a second. He made a frustrated noise when L twisted his fingers upon leaving his body, causing his legs to jerk up involuntarily and giving L the idea to haul one up and rest it on his shoulder.

"I need a – uhh," Raito lost his sentence as L entered him, and found it again when the detective stopped to fully settle inside of him. "I need a minute," he murmured, his words overshadowed by the way he was breathing.

His skin hadn't stopped prickling in the aftermath of his own release, and every brush against L just heightened those traces of pleasure still clinging to his body; his face was warm, especially under his eyes and around his mouth; his palms felt clammy, making it hard to grasp onto the skin in front of him; and the heat in the flesh of his back and stomach was oppressive.

L was having a difficult time staying still, the tiny shifts and jerks he didn't have control of inciting nerves that had been untouched inside of Raito, but were now over-stimulated from his climax, the sensation almost numbing.

Wrapping his other leg around L's back as a sign to go ahead, he watched L pull back and then push forward. The strain from how Raito had arranged his legs stiffening his hips and making it so L had to push hard to get inside of him.

By the time L was on his second, quickly followed by third, fourth, fifth… Raito lost count – body being roughly jerked by thrusts, L had buried his head in his neck, grabbed onto the leg over his shoulder and practically started whimpering in his ear, a needy sound that jolted Raito harder than the mounting shoves.

Any enjoyment he could garner from this was curbed by his body's languor after release, but the blunt ache that rose up from physical overindulging and the way L was holding onto him, he could not deny the satisfaction. Could not deny the thrill of possessing something that L wanted so badly and then dangling it in front of him, like a piece of sweetened fruit.

There might be no love between them, but the nectar that dripped from the illusion was just as delicious. Even more so than the real thing, he believed. Since the image they had before them was transient, about to disappear, and ready to spirit one of them away.

The last desperate thrusts that pinioned Raito to the bed made him lose his grip on the shoulder over him, his fingers forgetting to be gentle and instantly clawing their way down L's back in one covetous line. L halted. Whatever had set him off not important, as Raito felt the pulse deep inside of him, everything immediately getting sticky and L breathing out his name in final relief.

Those ever-open eyes finally closed.

**…………****…………………………………**

They were now sitting in front of surveillance station one; the other investigation team members taking turns watching the second station, while those not on monitor-duty busy doing further research on the Bishop Avice, Father Rene, and his 12-man cult following, as well as picking up the phones for Aiber and Wedy's reports.

In station one there were thirty small screens tuned into the inside of Lourdes' main cathedral and the many additional chapels at the eastern end, Raito and L dividing it among themselves so they had fifteen each.

Aizawa and Matsuda had control over station two, which kept track of the west façade, the east entrances and the grotto; a measly ten cameras in comparison to the monstrous set-up of cables and blinding glare that radiated from station one.

It was almost sickening watching them, both robotically keeping track of the monitors and at the same time making small talk. Aizawa always hated monitor duty for the simple reason that he was overworked and under-rested, so tedious activities tended to make him sleepy.

Pouring another cup of coffee to also fight off the jet lag of their first completed week in France, Aizawa felt his eyes go heavy. However, L suddenly raising his voice startled him awake, the words he shouted both familiar and very…disturbing.

"My only love sprung from my only hate! Too early seen unknown, and known too late!"

**"…" **

Uhg… why was that weirdo reciting Shakespeare?

"Romeo and Juliet, Act I, Scene V. If you're going to play this game, play it seriously," he heard Raito say.

Apparently the children were keeping busy with other things besides small talk.

"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind."

God, this was infinitely worst than that one time they all had to sit through L squawking out every two seconds "Hair. Snack Crumbs. Yagami-san your son is Kira. More hair!"

Aizawa suddenly felt like pitching the entire coffeepot at the detective's head.

"A Midsummer Night's Dreams, Act I, Scene I. Pick something harder," Raito insisted.

"As sweet and musical, as bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair; And when Love speaks, the voice of all the gods makes heaven drowsy with the harmony."

"Love's Labours Lost, Act IV, Scene III. That's a little better, but not by much. And what's up with your choice of quotes? There are other topics to choose from," Raito criticized.

Aizawa could not help but notice that as well, even if he did not want to. For some reason, he found himself turning in the chief's direction to see his reaction. The man had a peculiar look on his face as he flipped through paperwork, like he did not know what to make of this situation. Aizawa could understand.

Matsuda on the other hand found this hilarious. But he was a dumbass.

Mogi answered the phone for them.

"Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow."

"Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene II. And why are we back to them? If this gets any easier, we might as well kill time by playing rock-paper-scissors."

Aizawa got a sudden mental image of those two playing Janken. It was painful.

"My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite."

"Act II, Scene II. Are you stuck on Romeo and Juliet? I won't answer you the next time."

"But I am giving you the secrets to wooing Misa-san. You should take my advice. It is very wise advice, if I do say so myself."

"I don't need advice, Ryuuzaki. She's my girlfriend, not yours."

"Temper, temper Raito-kun. Or I will take her from you and she actually will be."

Aizawa tried to tune those two out, but when they started up with each other, it was like trying to ignore a jackhammer that was right on top of your head.

"If you're not too busy being stupid, could you get on with your next line. It seems like you're stalling," Raito accused. He was stirring his spoon in his coffee as he watched the screens, and somehow making both activities seem below him.

"Do not get certain undergarments in a twist, Raito-kun," L replied.

The chief had _unfortunately_ taken this time to sip out of his coffee mug; but fortunately for him, Matsuda was within his sputtering range.

"Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love."

"Hamlet, Act II, Scene II. A step up from Romeo and Juliet. I happen to like that play."

"I am happy to please," L spoke, staring up at the topmost screens with his mouth wide open.

God forbid he could do that with his mouth closed.

"Pure love and suspicion cannot dwell together: at the door where the latter enters, the former makes it exit."

"Alexandre Dumas."

"No need to call people names because you can't remember."

"This is the last time we play this game."

"Do not be like that Raito-kun. Grumpiness is a sign of low calcium. You might want to start drinking more milk, especially since you are young."

"Maybe you need to take your own advice, although it might not help with your problem."

"Meow goes the pussy cat."

"Excuse me?"

Earplugs. Where was Watari with earplugs when you needed him? He brought them ice cream and semi-automatic pistols. Earplugs shouldn't be too hard to find.

"Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies."

"I am not…" grumble "Aristotle …I am not playing anymore. You're a bad loser." Aizawa heard the sound of chair scooting, then he heard the sound of more chair scooting as L was probably not letting Raito get very far.

"I love you, not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you."

"Roy Croft. Your choice of quotes is horribly cliché."

"A kiss is a lovely trick, designed by nature, to stop words when speech becomes superfluous."

"Ingrid Bergman. You are making me angry."

"Heaven has no rage, like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury, like a woman scorned."

"William Congreve. Shut up. Shut up right now."

"Dogs love their friends and bite their enemies, quite unlike people, who are incapable of pure love and always have to mix love and hate."

"Sigmund Freud, speaking of which, you need the aid of his profession right away."

"The prerequisite for making love is to like someone enormously."

"Hallmark called."

"Yes, what did they say?"

"To stop ripping them off."

"I don't remember that call."

Aizawa felt that familiar vein in his temple and neck throb. This was not good for his blood pressure. This was so not good for his blood pressure.

"Quarrels in France strengthen a love affair, in America they end it."

"I told you I'm not playing anymore."

"I love being married. It's so great to find one special person you want to annoy for the rest of your life."

"I don't even – who is that?"

"Love's like the measles - all the worse when it comes late in life."

"Are you making them up as you go along now?"

"Love conquers all."

Exasperated sigh. "Virgil -- I give up."

"Raito-kun has said those three special words that I've always longed to hear from him."

Aizawa slowly turned in his swivel chair towards the bickering duo, and L noticed him almost immediately -- the glaring might have helped.

"Would you like to join in, Aizawa-san? I am currently beating Raito-kun by seven million, two hundred, forty-five thousand and six points."

"You made that score up."

"I am estimating."

"Shut up," Aizawa interrupted, as they would continue to bicker forever if someone didn't say something. "Enough with the corny quotes and the arguing and scooting away. Just shut up before I throw both of you in separate corners and make you face the goddamn wall" he threatened seriously, because this was a serious matter of them shutting the hell up and him getting some work done.

He also realized a bit too late that being a father with a little girl at home had made his rant turn out a lot different from how he wanted it to.

"Aizawa-san should take milk with his coffee."

Oh his blood pressure…

**

* * *

****A/n:** This is a normal day in France for everyone. The second part was fun because deathnote has great secondary characters. I like Aizawa. He's a man devoted to his job and his family. But despite all the seriousness, his anger fits make me laugh. He is also the only person to ever call L corny to his face. Because lets face it, everyone thinks it with those little **"..."** bubbles. He's just the only one who said it out loud. I salute him. 


	10. Le Balancement de la Pendule

_--The Gallows' Pendulum-- _

Raito came back to cognizance only when the sermon ended and they had to make their way to the perimeter of the sanctuary, towards the Chancel gate. As ornate as everything in this Cathedral, the copper gate was made to replicate gold, the blossoms of Penrose worked into it appearing to continue on forever within a spiral of optical illusion.

Rene was the one to greet them.

And instead of leading them up the stairs through the nave, he opened the chancel. He allowed Raito to enter first, even going so far as to hold the small gate open for him.

However, the stare he aimed at _both_ of them quickly betrayed any sort of semi-politeness he may have shown.

**…………****……………………….**

_«Avez-vous un saint que vous aimez plus en particulier, M. Grigoriy__?»_ (Do you have a favorite saint, Mr. Grigoriy?) Rene inquired in the middle of Raito's conversation with Father Ignatius.

So far into the morning, L had sat quietly for an hour, listening to Raito and the Father going back and forth, with the occasional snippets from Rene.

L turned an uninterested gaze on the man. It did not seem like he would acknowledge Rene with an answer, so when he did respond, it was unexpected.

_«Oui, __un__ de mes préférés serait l'apôtre Nathaniel. __Il__ est sceptique à l'égard de la venue du Messie et c'est ainsi que quiconque d'assez intelligent devrait agir face à une nouveauté. Il questionne et enquête__.»_(Yes, one of my favorites would be the Apostle Nathaniel. He is skeptical about the coming of the Messiah and therefore does what any intelligent human being should when faced with something new. He questions and investigates.)

_«Ah, mais inévitablement, __il__ voit la vraie majesté du Messie. Avez-vous d'autres raisons pour l'aimer ainsi__?»_ (Ah, but inevitably he sees the true majesty of the Messiah. Do you have any other reasons for why you like him?)

The brusque manner in which Rene was questioning L assured Raito that he did not really care for the detective's answers and more for anything that would embarrass him or Raito in front of the Father.

Unfortunately for the vicar, second to L's intelligence, was his utter incapability to be embarrassed.

To put it bluntly -- L had the shame of a prostitute.

_«Il est le patron de ceux qui crée quelque chose à partir du néant. Je travaille beaucoup avec mes mains__.»_ (He is the patron of creating nothing from something. I work a lot with my hands,) L fibbed, glancing over at Raito with a barely there smirk, shame of the prostitute at work.

_«Voilà une bien jolie peinture de l'ange Michel__.»_ (That is a lovely painting of Michael,) he then pointed out abruptly.

Raito turned to see a grand fresco of the Angel Michael on the wall adjacent to the cathedra, the Renaissance style depicting him as a fiery and handsome youth, blond hair shining as much as the coat of mail adorning him. His sword was unsheathed and his wings were gloriously spread out to encompass the armies under him, as he trumpeted the beginning of war with an accusatory hand at those opposite to him. The other side pitch black with demons and dragons.

_«Il est le protecteur de la Mère Marie, donc sa présence dans cette cathédrale appelle à la paix de tout ceux qui viennent prier la Vierge__.»_ (He is the protector of Mother Mary, so his presence at this cathedral summons peace for all of those who come here to pray to the Virgin,) Father Rene said, his admiration for the painting visible. _«Nous les avons toujours vu peints ensemble, alors à nos yeux, ils semblent __inséparables :__ la Madone qui représente l'essence même de la pureté et de la gentillesse, ainsi que l'archange qui brandit l'épée afin de combattre du côté du Bien.»_ (We have always seen them portrayed together, so in our eyes they are inseparable, the Madonna who is the essence of purity and gentleness, and the Archangel who will take up sword and shield to fight for the forces of good.)

_«J'apprécie beaucoup le fait que Michel __est__ le saint patron de la justice et de la chevalerie. Toutefois, nombreux artistes le dépeignent d'une façon très violente, puisqu'il __est__ l'ange de la guerre et de la mort. Je crois que l'aspect sanglant de __sa__ nature a été spécialement fait pour créer une image saisissante. Ne le croyez-vous pas__?»_ (I enjoy the fact that Michael is the patron saint of justice and knighthood. However, most artists portray him in a very violent fashion, because he is also the Angel of war and death. I think the bloody and gory aspects of his nature make for a very gripping image. Don't you think so?) L turned towards Father Ignatius, bringing him into the discussion.

The Father did not seem to know where to start on that one, realizing this, Raito suddenly laughed to ease the sudden tension in the room. _«Grigoriy a vu bien trop de films d'horreur, ces dernières semaines__.»_ (Grigoriy has been watching too many horror movies for these past few weeks.)

_«_Je vois_»_ (I see,) Father Ignatius chuckled.

L did not laugh along. Instead, he continued to be talkative. _«Saint Matthieu est un autre de mes favoris__.»_ (Saint Matthew is another favorite of mine.) He was staring at the pulpit across from them, the evangelist sign of the man, lion, ox, and eagle decorating each corner.

_«L'humain mal guidé qui, jadis, inspiré par __un__ ange, écrivit l'Évangile. __Qui pensez-vous était l'ange?__ ...Peut-être un Saint Michel déguisé__?»_ (The once misled human inspired by an Angel to write the Gospels. Who do you suppose that Angel was? Maybe it was Michael in disguise,) L said thoughtfully.

That made no sense, but okay. Raito eyed L suspiciously and decided to change the topic. _«Là n'est pas la question, Grigoriy.__ Ils ne sont jamais mentionnés ensemble, tout les deux__.»_ (I don't think that's the case, Grigoriy. They're never mentioned together.) Raito smiled to show the Father that he was humoring his "bodyguard." However, that smile did not last long, not when L suddenly cut him off.

_«En es-tu sûr?__ J'entends parlé d'eux tout le temps__.»_ (Are you sure? I hear about them all the time) L said, again with absolutely no expression on his face. Raito wanted to hit him.

_«Je pense que Grigoriy nous a fait perdre le fil de la discussion__.»_ (I think Grigoriy got us all off topic.) Raito nudged L in the arm a little harder than he should have in front of the priests.

_«Pas pour le moins du monde__.»_ (Not at all.) Father Ignatius turned to address L directly. _«Je peux dire que vous être très connaisseur de __tout__ ce qui est en lien avec la Bible. Par chance, seriez-vous catholique__?»_ (I can tell that you are quite knowledgeable of the Bible. By any chance, would you be Catholic?)

L titled his head. _«Non, je suis athée__.»_ (No, I'm an atheist.)

And ensues the chirping of crickets

Raito felt the urge to groan out loud.

_«...oui, mais peut-être qu'un jour, tu retrouveras ta foi__.»_ (…yes, but maybe one day your faith shall be returned,) Rene interjected. Then he swiftly turned green eyes on Raito who had his mask of pleasantry firmly fixed in place after that bit of_ staggering_ genius from L.

_«Et qu'en est-il de _vous_, M. Nikolai__?»_ (And what would _you_ be, Mr. Nikolai?)

_«Je n'appartiens à aucun ordre religieux, Père René__.»_ (I do not have a religious order, Father Rene.) Raito stared down at his hands. _«Puisque que j'ai encore à en découvrir une qui me convien__t, __mais je suis très intéressé par le catholicisme__.»_(As I have yet to be moved by one, but I'm very interested in Catholicism.)

_«Ah, et quels sont vos intérêts à propos du catholicisme__?»_ (Ah and what interests you about Catholicism?) Rene questioned, Father Ignatius looking on intently.

_«Le Péché Originel.__Je crois en la détermination à laquelle nous nous appliquons pour nous purger du mal, à commencer dès notre plus jeune âge – Je pense que c'est inculqué par la discipline juvénile.__ Cela démontre aux enfants qu'ils doivent se battre pour leur foi. __Non seulement__ pour leur foi puisque ce trait peut être appliqué à leur vie future, mais aussi pour leur morale et leurs interactions sociales. Cela leur donne la chance de grandir en tant qu'adultes sensibles__.»_ (Original Sin. I believe the devotion that is put into ridding oneself of that sin, starting early in life -- I think that instills discipline within children. It shows them that they must work hard for their faith. But not only for their faith since this trait can be applied to their future, to their work ethic and their social interactions. It gives them the chance to grow up into sensible adults.)

_«C'est tout à fait vrai__.»_ (That's very true,) Father Rene agreed. He did not seem as hostile towards them as he had a few minutes ago. Something in Raito's words must have appealed to him.

_«Les enfants doivent bien étudier pour leur confirmation et faire pénitence régulièrement. Ils viennent à comprendre ce que signifie la responsabilité ainsi qu'avoir une meilleure vision de ce qui est bien et de ce qui est mal__.»_ (The children must study hard for their confirmation and attend penance regularly. It impresses upon them responsibility and a better sense of what is right and what is wrong.)

Raito glanced over at the confessional booth propped up against the same wall that the choir inhabited, the dark mahogany wood polished and shining dully in the lowlight cast over that portion of the church.

Father Rene noticed his fascination, as did everyone else, since Raito was now staring at it candidly and broadcasting his thoughts with that solemn look on his face.

_«Cela peut sembler trop direct__,»_ (This might be forward of me,) Father Ignatius started. _«Mais j'ai l'impression que... vos péchés sont bien trop lourd à porter, seul comme vous l'êtes, il y a toujours des oreilles prêtent à faire part à une confession__.»_ (But if you feel that… your sins are too heavy to bear alone, then there are always ears to listen.) He looked over at the booth with a smile. _«Je comprends qu'il y a un maximum à ce que l'homme peut faire pour son prochain, mais même le plus simple geste peut redonner espoir__.»_ (I understand that there is only so much that we humans can do for each other, but even the smallest lift gives hope.)

Raito made it seem like he needed some time to compose himself. He stared sadly at his knees in the mean time, garnering the full sympathies of Father Ignatius.

_«Est-ce correct?__ Je ne suis pas catholique__.»_ (Would that be alright? I'm not Catholic.)

_«__Non__, c'est acceptable. Dieu aime tous ses enfants__.»_ (No, it's fine. God loves all his children,) Ignatius said. _«Mais»_ (But) he interrupted, _«Je ne peux vous donner l'absolution. L'évêque m'a imposé __un__ congé de mes devoirs confessionels. Je m'en excuse... mais voudriez-vous bien le faire pour moi, père René__?»_ (I cannot give you Absolution. The Bishop has put me on break from my confessional duties. I apologize… but would you do this for me Father Rene?) The priest turned to his associate and the man accepted almost a little too quickly.

Standing up, Raito cast a stare over at the detective. It was understood that he could not follow Raito into the booth, so L would have to wait here for his return.

A thing that did not sit too well with him.

Luckily there were cameras and audio devices set up. But watching the confessional booth in the hotel room, L had noticed that there was an easily overlooked error in the setup…

Raito excused himself from the two of them and followed after Father Rene.

He slipped into the compartment fit for the confessor, while the Father took his place behind the lattice screen, the booth smelling of dusty flowers, parchment and polish.

There was a kneeler for those who did not want to sit on the small bench, a crucifix placed on the white grille, and a red rosary entwined into the separator between parishioner and priest.

Instead of sitting on the bench, Raito kneeled down on one knee on the raised portion of the floor.

Why did he do this?

Simply because the camera that was placed above would have a hard time catching his face from this position than lets say if he had sat on the bench, where the camera was positioned at just the right angle to keep track of his expressions.

Raito bowed his head, bangs falling over his eyes and so further concealing his countenance as he began to whisper the Act of Contrition.

"Deus meus, ex toto corde poenitet me omnium meorum peccatorum, eaque detestor, quia peccando, non solum poenas a te iuste statutas promeritus sum, sed praesertim quia offendi te, summum bonum, ac dignum qui super omnia diligaris. Ideo firmiter propono, adiuvante gratia tua, de cetero me non peccaturum peccandique occasiones proximas fugiturum. Amen." (O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest all my sins, because I dread the loss of Heaven and the pains of Hell, but most of all because they offend Thee, my God, Who art all-good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve, with the help of Thy grace to confess my sins, to do penance and to amend my life. Amen.)

It was a preferred rule that speech within the Confessional booth should be whispered to convey shame and not spoken in one's normal voice

And it was this understood law that would keep the audio devices from picking up his voice.

Since this was a building open to the public and frequented by thousands each day, the bugs that were set up could not be too sensitive to noise, as this would make the recordings heavily distorted.

So instead of running that risk, Wedy had tuned them to noises sixty decibels and higher, sixty being a normal mode of conversation, and therefore sacrificing everything below, including whispers, which were only fifteen decibels.

Not to mention that Wedy had been given a very short notice for this project, and to bug the entire Lourdes grounds -- to bug five acres of land, equaling 217,800 square feet, all of which were encompassed by an enormous Cathedral and thirteen maze-like chapels that sprung from this one structure…

Wedy and Watari had been stretched too thin, so in each building, there was only three cameras set-up for a broad bird's eye view of the inside, with the occasional device planted in a strategic spot.

It was safe to say that this strain in staff and abundance in area limited the efficiency in surveillance. Something that Raito would naturally take advantage of.

Resting a hand on the lattice, Raito let his fingers touch the red rosary.

_«Bénissez-moi mon Père car j'ai péché__.»_ (Bless me Father for I have sinned.)

_«Quels sont vos fautes, mon enfant__?»_ (What are your sins, my child?)

Raito bowed his head even lower, his fingers now clutching onto the red rosary and a smile creeping over his face.

_«J'ai tué un homme__.»_ (I've killed a man.)

He raised his head, stared at the man through the lattice screen in front of him and something on his face made the priest gasp.

_«Actuellement… j'ai tué plusieurs hommes__.»_ (Actually… I've killed many men,) Raito whispered, leaning forward into the lattice so his forehead was pressing against the white birch wood, his gestures appearing repentant for the cameras behind him.

_«J'en ai tué des milliers – t__ous des pêcheurs qui n'auraient jamais dû voir la lumière du jour. Je les ai jugés et tous tués__.»_ (I've killed thousands -- all sinners that should never see the light of day. I have judged and killed them all.)

Face going a deathly pallor, Rene continued to stare through the thin lattice at the person on the other side. A state of shock had reduced him to utter silence, silence that his heartbeat or his breathing could not even break. He pressed his fingers against the cool wood below the screen, ready to push himself away, but his limbs were stiff with terror, unmoving.

_«Je vous en prie, entendez ma confession, mon Père__.»_ (Please hear out my confessional Father,) Raito said, voice and face suddenly devoid of any cruelty. He even smiled kindly, as if they were meeting for the first time.

For some reason, the kind expression seemed even crueler than what the priest had glimpsed at only seconds before.

_«Qui – au nom de Dieu, qui êtes-vous__?»_ (Who – who in God's name are you?) Rene hissed out, voice finally breaking free, but so weak and small that it was as if he had never spoken at all.

Raito had tangled his fingers in the rosary, hand steadily pulling on it until the wood straining under the pressure creaked, the knots in the strings snapping free and the beads scattering down to the floor in a wash of red.

«**Votre nouveau Dieu**» (**Your**** new God.**) 

Raito dragged his fingers down in the wake of that chaos, head dipping back down to the floor in a display of piety for the camera, while whispering pointedly, _«Vous voulez le cahier que Ignatius possède, et bien, je peux vous le donner.»_ (You want the notebook that Ignatius has, well I can give it to you.)

The priest's eyes widened. Raito pointed to the floor and the man cast his eyes downward. Fear making him turn his gaze whichever way this person wanted; only to keep them closed in the end, as the panic in his chest grew, inching up in a choking slither.

_«Vous le voulez, n'est-ce pas?»_ (You want it, don't you?) He heard that sickly sweet voice drip through the lattice, slender fingers sliding through the spaces in the wood so they were right in front of his face, smelling of expensive cologne and soap. _«Ou ai-je mal jugé vos intentions à propos du Père?»_ (Or have I misjudged your intentions for hanging around the Father?)

Rene closed his eyes even tighter against that fragrance. _«Vous devez être le diable.Seul lui peut ainsi lire le cœur des hommes…Êtes-vous le diable? Dieu du ciel...»_ (You must be the Devil. Only the devil can read a man's heart like this... Are you the devil? God in heaven…) the Father began to pray, but Raito fixed him with a wintry look that stopped him cold.

_«Le Malin ne déverserait son courroux sur les pervers,»_ (The devil does not bring judgment on the wicked,) Raito clarified tersely and leaned his face closer to the lattice. _«Je juge les criminels, et si vous m'écoutez, vous aurez vous aussi le pouvoir de les juger.» _(I judge criminals, and if you listen to me, you shall have the power to judge them as well.)

"Kira…?" the man whispered and gazed at him, but quickly averted his eyes when he caught the utterly malicious expression reflected back at him.

Such a horrible expression that would have thrown grown men to their knees, reduced heroes to cowards, kings to paupers…

It was vicious, because it knew no restraint, like a child plucking the wings of a butterfly. Rene shivered and bowed his head even lower.

_«En tant que Dieu, je suis bien miséricordieux de ne pas vous tuer.»_ (I am a merciful god for not killing you,) Raito stated. He had to make this man fear him, respect him and love him all in the same breath, as a true god would expect of his subjects. It was the only way to completely control this man. To have what he finally wanted. _«Vous avez envoyé vos hommes après moi.»_ (You sent your men after me.)

_«Je...»_ (I...) Rene stuttered out. _«Je pensais que vous étiez L. Vous alliez prendre le cahier. Je devais faire quelque chose. Ce...»_ (I thought you were L. You were going to take the notebook away. I had to do something. That thing…) Rene closed his eyes. He could feel that gaze on him, fierce, like the burning of suns. _«Cet instrument... Il n'y a rien comme tel dans ce monde. Cette église tient quelques miracles, mais ils sont tous simplets si on les compare à ce livre… ce livre. Je dois l'avoir.»_ (That thing… there is nothing like it in the world. This church has miracles, but they are measly in comparison to that book… that book. I must have it.)

_«Alors vous désirez ce pouvoir?»_ (So you want the power?) Raito asked, eyes boring into the Father until the man could stand it no more and looked him in the face.

Raito softened his features and let his hands drop from the screen to sit demurely in his lap.

_«Allez, vous pouvez bien me le dire.»_ (You can tell me.)

That soft voice again lilted into the distance between them, and Rene so confused at the unexpectedness of it, felt his heart bared, like a veil swept aside to reveal what was hidden. It was so easy to listen to it, to open up to it…

_«Non, pas seulement le pouvoir,»_ (No… not just the power,) Rene confessed. _«Je comprends l'intenntion de Kira. Le déluge. L'incommensurable déluge de l'Ancien Testament que vous avez lu Kira purifie la Terre de tous les indésirables – tout cela en n'impliquant pas les innocents. C'est ce que je veux. Je veux qu'il juge. Il est... Kira est Dieu.»_ (I understand Kira's intent. It's the Flood. The mighty Old Testament Flood that you read about. Kira is wiping out all the undeserving – and he's doing so without getting the innocent involved. I want that. I want him to judge. He is… Kira is God.) Rene hung his head. _«Il représente la deuxième venue du Messie.»_ (He is the second coming of the Messiah.)

That's exactly the kind of thing that Raito wanted to hear.

Smiling benevolently at the priest, he placed his hand gently on the screen separating them. _«Vous comprenez. Vous n'avez aucune idée à quel point cela me rend heureux._ (You understand. You have no idea how happy you've made me.

_«Je veux juste un monde où il n'y aura que de bonnes personnes. Les cieux m'ont béni par ce don et je désire seulement le partager avec ceux qui possèdent la même envie de changement. Pensez-vous que c'est si mal de ma part?»_ (I only want this world to be a place where only good people live. The heavens blessed me with this gift and I want only to share it with those who wish to change this world as well. Do you think that's wrong of me?)

_«Non, bien sûr que non.»_ (No, of course not,) the Father quickly replied. _«Vous êtes le sauveur.Vous avez sauvez tant de personnes de la mort, de la douleur. S'il vous plaît, s'il y a quoi que ce soit que je peux faire pour vous – vous devez me le dire.»_ (You're the savior. You've saved so many from death and pain. Please… if there is anything I can do for you – you must tell me.)

Perfect. Oh God, it was just so perfect.

Raito restrained the smile begging to lay claim to his features. Instead he poignantly clenched his hand to his chest and lowered his eyes. _«Je suis persécuté par plusieurs, Père René. Par plusieurs. Par ceux qui ne veulent être jugés pour leurs crimes. C'est dur, mon Père. Même pour moi, qui doit supporter le poids de leur haine, de leur corruption…»_ (I am being persecuted, Father Rene. By many. By many who do not want to be judged for their crimes. It is hard, Father. Even for me to bear the burden of all their hate, their corruption…)

The awed face of the Father made Raito want to break out into laughter.

_«Que voulez-vous que je fasse? Si je peux aider...»_ (What would you have me do? If I can help you in any way...) Father Rene begged.

_«Je suis présentement persécuté par le vrai… L.»_ (I am currently being persecuted by the real… L.) Raito whispered the name even lower, letting the utter contempt for the person rise to the surface.

_«Sauriez-vous qui est L, Père René?»_ (Would you like to know who L is Father Rene?)

_«Qui?»_ (Who?) The man hissed.

_«Il se cache sous le nom de Grigoriy. Grigoriy est L.»_ (He is posing as Grigoriy. Grigoriy is L.) Raito let the frustration show on his face. _«Cet homme est vil, m'emprisonner et m'obliger de faire tout ce qu'il veut. Il m'a même poussé à jouer dans le dos du bon Père Ignatius pour avoir le cahier entre ses deux mains impures, alors…»_ (That man is wicked, capturing me and making me do whatever he wants. He even has me trying to trick the good Father Ignatius so he can get his dirty hands on the notebook, then…) Raito let his voice crack. _«Alors quand je ne serai de plus d'aucune utilité... il me tuera.»_ (Then when I am no longer of any use to him… he will kill me.) Raito clenched his hand tighter on the fabric of his shirt, his knuckles going white and his face stricken with "distress."

_«Est-ce bien ce que vous désirez? Me voir mourir, devenir un martyre et que ma cause soit perdue à cause de pêcheurs comme lui qui ne souhaitent révéler au monde qui ils sont réellement.»_ (Do you think it's right? That I will die, become a martyr, and my cause will be lost because sinners like him do not wish to be revealed for what they are.)

_«Non, c'est horrible.»_ (No, it's horrible.) The Father seemed to take personal offense. _«Vous ne déservez rien de cela.»_ (You don't deserve this.)

That's right. He didn't deserve any of this. _«C'est pourquoi...»_ (That's why...) Raito said hopefully. _«C'est pourquoi je pense que quelque chose devrait être fait à propos de L.»_ (That's why I think something must be done about L.)

_«Oui. C'est la seule façon de s'occuper de ce genre de personne.»_ (Yes. It is the only way to deal with his type,) resolutely and without hesitance, the Father came to his conclusion, or rather was nudged to this end by a helpful hand. _«Tout ce que vous désirez de moi, je vous l'offrirai.»_ (Whatever you need of me, I will give it.)

_«J'ai remarqué que vous avez de nombreux disciples.»_ (I've noticed that you have followers,) Raito began, getting to the point. _«Ces hommes, vous sont-ils entièrement loyaux? À vous et à votre cause?»_ (These men, are they completely loyal to you? To the cause?)

_«Il n'y a aucun doute que chacun de ces hommes est totalement dévouer à Kira. Demandez et ils vous servirons.»_ (There is without a doubt that every man in my group has the utmost devotion to Kira. Ask anything of them and they will serve.)

Raito bit his lip to hold in the terrible welling in his chest.

_«Donc... ce que je désire d'eux est de prouvez leur loyauté envers moi. Avec l'Avent qui approche, Lourdes devrait être plutôt occupée avec la fête de la Nativité. Le Père n'aura aucun temps pour une rencontre, alors je pense que nous pourrons le voir seulement au Nouvel An. _(Then… what I want is for them to prove that loyalty to me. With Late Advent approaching, Lourdes is busy for the Nativity festival. The Father will have no time for these meetings, so I expect we will see him in the New Year.

_«À notre prochaine rencontre, je pense que le Père me révélera la location du cahier, et s'il exprime encore un petit doute, je suis certain que vous viendrez à mon aide.»_ (On our next meeting I believe the Father will be disclosing the location of the notebook to me, or if he is unsure, I am certain you will help him along in this opinion.)

_«Le Père ressent certainement un attachement envers vous. Même si je lui ai demandé de nombreuses fois de ne pas vous donner le cahier, il persiste à vouloir vous l'offrir. Il est constamment en brouille avec l'évêque. Il semble réellement fatigué de son devoir et j'ai bien l'impression qu'il espère bientôt retourner à une vie normale.»_ (The Father has taken quite a liking to you. Even though I have asked him countless times to keep the book, he is persistent to give it to you. He has also been constantly running into trouble with the Bishop. He is truly weary of this business and I am certain he wishes to return to his normal life.)

_«Alors au premier jour de janvier, je veux que vous amenez la moitié de vos fidèles à Lourdes. Seulement les plus loyaux et les plus sûrs. Amenez-les ici et faites-les attendre dans une des chapelles de l'aile est. N'importe laquelle, mais ne venez pas près du bâtiment principal. Dites leur de vaquer à quelques missions, mais faites interdire toute discussion à propos de nos plans pour Lourdes. Choisissez un endroit à l'extérieur pour leur en parler, ainsi que pour annoncer ma présence, mais je vous prie, ne changez point l'habitude que vous avez de venir ici chaque semaine afin d'envoyer vos hommes après nous._ (Then on January first, I want you to bring half of your followers to Lourdes. Only your most loyal and trustworthy. Bring them here and get them to wait in one of the eastern chapels. I don't care which one, but do not come near the main building. Tell them to go about their business, but forbid them from talking about the plans within Lourdes. Choose a place outside the grounds to inform them of my presence and my plans, but please do not change your routine of coming here once a week for discussion or sending your followers after us.

_«Quand le temps sera bon et que le Père m'amènera à l'endroit où il garde le cahier, car je suis positif qu'il le cache ici, j'ai besoin que vos hommes viennent à la cathédrale principale. Postez une sentinelle à l'entrée, comme vous l'avez fait antérieurement, afin que vous sachiez quand approcher. Quand vous nous verrez entrer, fermez la cathédrale._ (When the time is right and the Father brings me to the place where he is keeping the notebook, for I am positive he is keeping it here, I need your men to come to the main Cathedral. Post a lookout at the entrance, as you did prior, so you will know when to approach. Then when you see us enter, close off the Cathedral.

_«Vous prendrez le cahier à la suite. Ne vous alarmez pas si je me débats et, surtout, ne dîtes rien à vos fidèles sur mon identité. Pour tout ce que je sais, ils croient que je suis L. Vous devez les garder à l'écart. Et informez-les que vous voulez L capturé. Et pendant ce temps...»_ (You will take the notebook from me. Do not be alarmed if I struggle and please do not enlighten your men to my identity. For all they know I am L. But you must keep them in line. Inform them that you want L captured. And in the mean time…)

Raito smiled. _«Pendant ce temps, vous tuerez le vrai L, puisqu'il n'est rien d'autre que mon garde du corps. Fusillez-le, poignardez-le, peu importe. Seulement, soyez certain qu'il ne respire plus quand les portes ouvrirons de nouveau._ (In the meantime, you will kill the real L, since he is posing as nothing more than my bodyguard. Shoot him, stab him, do whatever. Just make sure he's not breathing by the time those doors are opened again.

_«Vous et vos hommes devrons aller vous cacher ensuite et vous prendrez le cahier avec vous. Nous devrons nous quitter, mais après quelques semaines où j'aurai restauré mon innocence et repris la place de L, alors là je vous direz quand commencer le jugement._ (You and your men shall need to go into hiding afterwards and you will take the Father's notebook with you. We will have to part ways, but after weeks have passed and I have fully restored my innocence and taken over L's station, then I will instruct you to start judgment.

_«Je comprends que je vous en demande beaucoup. Vous devrez abandonner votre vie en tant que prêtre ici… mais vous gagnerez tellement plus à travers cette épreuve – le pouvoir de changer ce monde corrompu, de le modeler en tant qu'idéal, de prouver votre foi et votre amour…»_ (I understand that I'm asking a lot of you. You will need to give up your life as a priest here… but you will be gaining so much more through your hardship -- the power to change this corrupt world, to shape it into the ideal, to prove your faith and love…)

_«Pour un homme d'église,»_ (For a man of the cloth,) Rene began emotionally, _«C'est un acte de dévotion ultime que de répandre Sa volonté, d'abandonner tout ce que je possède pour l'amour de Lui. En tant que servant de Dieu, je ne peux espérer une meilleure voie.» _(It is the ultimate act of devotion to carry out His will, to give up everything in my life to show my great love for Him. As a servant of God, I can wish for no better path.)

Rene piously bowed his head towards him, and then as if to further seal their agreement, he gave him Absolution.

_«Merci, mon Père.Votre foi m'éblouie. Je n'étais certain que vous croyiez mes paroles, mais en preuve de ma position, je vous demanderais de bien vouloir regarder le ciel lorsque vous quitterez cette église. Regardez vers les cieux, vers les clochers de la façade ouest. Là vous verrez ce qu'aucun homme normal peut voir. Seulement ceux qui sont bénis avec le pouvoir céleste.S'il vous plaît, n'ayez crainte, mais soyez même heureux.Car celui qui sera sur le toit de l'église garde ces murs sacrés. Les protège comme le font les gargouilles de Notre-Dame.»_ (Thank you Father. Your faith astounds even me. I was not sure that you would believe my words, but as proof of my position, I shall ask you to look up at the sky when you leave this church. Look up at the heavens, at the spires on the west façade. There you will see something that no mortal man may see. Only one that is blessed with the power of heaven. Please do not be afraid, but be joyous at the sight. For the one on top of this church guards these hallowed walls. Protects it as the gargoyles of Notre Dame.)

There would be absolutely no question of his identity if this man saw Rem.

To conclude his business with the priest, Raito added, _«J'ai l'impression qu'un grand poids a été ôté de mes épaules.»_ (I feel as though a great weight has been lifted from my shoulders.) He clasped his hands together in final prayer, fake tears slipping down his face and making his mirth that much felt for the Father.

Raito stood up from the prie-dieu, parted the red veil, and stepped out of the booth, a gentle hand wiping away the last remnants of his tears, as he made the sign of the cross and recited, _«Au nom du Père, du Fils et du Saint-Esprit.»_ (In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost.)

**"Amen."**

**…………****………………………….**

L watched Raito carefully as they both walked to the outskirts of the grounds, their tailers following them yet again from a reasonable distance.

"Has Raito-kun been crying?" he asked simply, waiting for an answer.

Raito started at him, as if he was surprised that he'd noticed, but L thought that strange, since it was apparent from the way he had exited the booth and the state he had met both the Father and him in.

"Mm…" Raito smiled self-consciously, or what was a good facsimile of it. "I didn't think – well I suppose I got a tad too emotional in the booth. I've read about confessionals, but to experience it first hand…it's quite different. It's frighteningly personal."

L eyed Raito even more closely. "Father Ignatius also noticed your tears. He seemed very touched by them." It was good that the priest was so moved. It meant Raito was doing his job and getting the Father on their side. However, Raito was acting as if his crying could not be helped.

L would have believed him if he had conjured up tears to get some sympathy from the man, as Raito looked like the type of person who would be great at fake-crying, but the assertion that he was not acting…

…It bothered L. Because it confused him.

He tried not to swing back and forth in his theory of Raito being Kira. There was just too much evidence racked up against this one person. All the pieces fit perfectly together…

Except for that one rule that distorted the overall puzzle. That one rule. If only it never existed, then Raito would surely be Kira.

But that was not the only variable he had to take into consideration, as Raito's behavior was always dynamic. Never static and continuously disturbing him, making him doubt and question…

"How did Father Rene react? I feel sorry for him. It must be very hard to see Raito-kun cry and believe you were the one that caused it."

Raito again gave him an almost embarrassed look. "He… tried to console me."

"So he is not a total cad," L concluded.

"...no, I guess not," Raito answered, pausing at the word cad.

"Hmm… but how lucky he is to have seen you cry" and adding bluntly only after he was directed with a disbelieving look from Raito, "It must be quite a sight."

Raito stared back at him, whether he was upset at the implication or angered by it, made little difference to L.

"Let us hope that I never do something as irredeemable as making you cry. That would ruin my day."

Raito said nothing. L scratched the side of his face. If he continued to prod Raito, there was a good chance he would either be ignored or slugged into a snowdrift.

"Would Raito-kun like some ice-cream?" he asked, despite the below zero weather they were walking through. "Two scoops of his favorite kind should cheer him up after having such a rough day."

**

* * *

****1. Cathedra –** The Bishops throne, adopted by the church from the Roman Emperors. It symbolizes the authority of the church and it is from this that we get the word Cathedral. 

**2. Prie-Dieu –** A kneeler with a cushion. It literally translates to "Pray God."

**3. Nathaniel** – (means gift of God) One of the Twelve Apostles, who is described as initially being skeptical about the Messiah coming from Nazareth, saying: "Can anything good come out of Nazareth?" He is the patron of leather workers; neurological diseases; plasterers; shoemakers; tanners; trappers; twitching; and whiteners.

**6. Matthew -** Another of the Twelve Apostles. His Evangelical symbol is the man. He is also the Patron of bankers, bookkeepers, guards and security forces.


	11. Un Vers au Centre de l'âme

_--The Worm at the Core--_

It was simple, really.

Lying on the bed, breath an easy lift and fall that communicated sleep to the untrained eye, but fully functioning under that guise, Raito finished his daily recount of how each side was faring.

He was _definitely_ winning.

His actions in the confessional had cinched it for him.

Raito had never liked to take chances; it was the main reason he was still alive.

But to discourage opportunity when it was knocking on his door -- he certainly did not oppose the occasional risk when he had much to gain, especially at the last stretch of the Yotsuba case, when writing down Higuchi's name had made his heart beat louder than the rotors of the helicopter.

His predictions were always right on the money, and with the perfect amount of caution, chance, and cleverness, he always pulled through on each of his ventures. This time had been no different.

After they had returned to the hotel, as expected L had made a beeline towards the cameras, his eyes darting two screens to the left where the booth was being monitored.

Raito knew L was bound to notice the flaw – if he could see it then it was guaranteed that L would be able too – but no matter how it made him look, L could not prove anything if there was nothing to prove. Raito had done nothing more than talk in that booth. L could not convict him on mere conversation.

There was a chance that L would feel threatened by this gap in his supervision of him, but to call off the entire operation for a mere conjecture -- the Father's deathnote was far too important a piece of evidence for him to do that; there was just no way L was letting it slip through his fingers.

He would continue. As would Raito. After all, they were both risking their lives here. It would not do for one of them to suddenly get cold feet.

Not until one of them was good and _dead._

Stretching languidly, Raito shifted amongst the blankets, the clicking of keys on a laptop trailing off and only resuming until he stilled.

It had all gone as planned. The Father had submitted to his will with little, if any resistance at all (not that he was expecting Rene to be adverse to his directions).

Desperate men were known to do desperate things, and with Raito posing as L and slowly, but surely, cajoling Rene's superior into handing over the one thing he coveted the most -- it must have drove him mad. Rene most certainly had his own reasons for wanting to get rid of L.

And in that venture, a joint objective would benefit them the most. Rene would have the freedom of movement that Raito did not, and in turn, he would provide support for getting L out of the way.

Of course, Raito had absolutely _no_ intentions of giving Rene the deathnote. The only thing Rene and his men would receive was the blame for killing L and then the subsequent execution that followed.

After all, Raito had never told him about the cameras in the church.

It was all very easy, really…

On January the first, Father Rene will walk into Lourdes Cathedral with his converts. He will take the deathnote from him, order his men to kill L, and unfortunately for him, all of this will be caught on camera as substantial evidence.

Raito will act out his role as scared and bewildered as possible. He will shed tears for L and make a big scene, and all the while the investigation team having seen L killed will race to the church, misinterpret the entire situation, and believe he's still in danger from a crazy bunch of extremist.

Watari, who will already be at the scene of the crime long before the others, will quickly notice that the doors are locked; he will be alarmed and will take a sniper position from the building opposite them.

He will receive a panicked call from the team that L has been killed by Rene's faction and that Raito is trapped inside with them. There will be the obvious conclusion of a hostage situation, as he is playing the very important role of L. It would be normal to think his captors haven't killed him because they plan to use him to barter their way out -- and in fact, all of this is true to some extent. To Rene's men who do not know his identity, it is the absolute truth, but to Rene, he will know better.

That knowledge was going to cost him his life. Raito did not want to get his hands messy, but the occasion called for it. L had given him a gun, and ironically he would be using that "gift" to get rid of the last piece of evidence that would tie him to the detective's death.

His father might have frowned when he saw him handling the gun, but it would be a completely different story when his life was in actual danger. His father would want him to use it. He would want him safely returned to him.

The plea of self-dense was more than appropriate for such a volatile situation. And since he was going to fire the gun in a very emotion state ("grief-stricken" as he was over L's death), his shot will be horribly off, and instead of shooting to incapacitate, he will "accidentally" kill his aggressor.

With Rene dead and no longer able to talk, his men will turn hostile towards him. However, they will not kill him, as they understand he is their only chance against the French authorities.

They will keep him around.

Too bad for them, their actions will be followed closely by the cameras, giving his father and the rest of the investigation team an exact idea of which part of the church he is being kept in.

The Lourdes Cathedral was a facet of stain-glassed windows, spanning every wall and even the ceiling. If everyone knew his position in the church, Watari would have no problem shooting out some windows and getting a clearer picture of what was going on inside.

Watari will then quickly start to incapacitate the men around him. Raito suspected that Watari was very close to L and he might use this time to get revenge, although, it did not matter if Watari killed or simply handicapped these men. Whatever his methods, Raito was home free. These men knew nothing of his identity. They might have heard that Kira was here, but that could obviously be taken as, in spirit, here -- something that any crazy extremist preached about when they tried to justify an act.

Of course, Raito was disappointed that he could not use the deathnote on L. But killing L by that method at this point was way too risky. This entire plan was an extremely dangerous endeavor. Raito understood all the possibilities of what could go wrong, had studied them for long hours, weighted his options. But to wait for another opportunity in itself was the worse thing he could do. L was going to get that deathnote soon and once he looked inside of it and realized what Raito had done…

It was game over for him.

Time was against him. He needed to act now, even without the aid of the deathnote. In a way, it benefited him more, as using Kira's MO would call immediate suspicion to him. Especially with L in another country, away from Kira's established base of operations.

It was best to kill him and make it look like an accident. And even if Kira did not get the immediate acknowledgment of the kill, the investigation team members would still understand that Kira was the indirect cause of L's death. The men who would take the fall for him would say they were being moved by Kira -- the ideal of Kira was moving people to act for him, and if that did not symbolize his utter victory over L, that he had followers who were willing to do anything for him, for his cause, for his pride, then he had no idea what would.

Letting his body completely relax into the mattress under him, Raito let his thoughts wander…

Unfortunately, the loud voices behind the door pulled him back to the present. Matsuda and Aizawa were carrying on about something -- what it was, he could not care less.

He supposed, since it was Christmas and a week from now L would_ finally_ understand Kira's true power, that he had every right to feel self-satisfied.

Rolling over on his side, Raito stretched again, throwing his arm out and encountering the waist of the individual beside him, the laptop upset by that move.

Raito spied under his bangs at the person staring down at him, large eyes trapped by the frame of a pale face and hair that implied right away that he had also just rolled out of bed. Raito tightened his arm around the detective, pulling L towards him and at the same time using his legs as a pillow.

"What time is it?" he asked indolently, letting his hands wander wherever they so please.

"Six," replied L, as he set his laptop on the nightstand.

He didn't seem to be in the mood for conversation -- something that Raito did not question as he stretched out an arm, tentatively weaving his hand around L's neck and tugging him down to his mouth.

L seemed strangely reticent towards his advances, but as his mouth covered his in pliant enthusiasm, not insisting, but only compelling towards slow progression, L seemed to give a little, sliding his hands up and under his shirt, and rubbing him there in a back and forth motion that made Raito open his mouth even more and --

Knock. Knock.

L lifted his head suddenly, Raito also doing the same as his eyes bolted towards the door.

"You guys, there's something you need to see," Matsuda's voice called, the unmistakable early morning cheer making L roll off him.

Meanwhile, Raito had grabbed the clothes folded over the headboard, a quick "we'll be right there" following as he tugged on his jeans and quickly slipped on a clean shirt.

Raito opened the door and was quickly greeted by a smiling Matsuda.

However, once he passed the threshold with L in tow, the man's face suddenly changed into one of those ridiculous, wicked grins that he liked to show off whenever he thought he did something especially clever.

"Haha, you guys got caught by the mistletoe!" Matsuda bellowed, pointing at the inconspicuous green and red plasticized plant hanging over the frame of their door.

There was an irritated growl off in the distance. Raito assumed it was Aizawa.

"And now you have to kiss each other!" Matsuda laughed, like a seven year old who still believed in cooties and hair pulling. The chief and Mogi were not paying attention to the theatrics of the morning, too busy flipping through files to give their younger an audience.

This nonexistent enthusiasm for his joke seemed to trouble Matsuda greatly, even more so than what he was suggesting Raito and L do in front of everyone.

And the way he had gone right for it, Matsuda probably thought they would get embarrassed, and for amusement's sake, make great asses out of themselves.

Raito lowered his head and rolled his eyes. "Ah, I guess Matsuda-san is right – we are in France, after all," he added playfully, as he leaned over and pecked L on the cheek and then the other. On his second kiss, L pecked him back on the cheek closest to him, while greeting, "Merry Christmas, Raito-kun."

"Merry Christmas, Ryuuzaki," Raito responded congenially.

"I like mistletoe," L said, a goofy look on his face as he wondered off to his desk. Yagami-san had actually looked up at that assessment.

"Man you guys are no fun," Matsuda whined. "You can't take a joke."

"No the problem is that they took the joke a little _too_ well," Aizawa muttered, lowering his head in apology when the chief gave him a surprisingly hard stare. He cleared his throat and glanced over at Mogi, the burlier man, even when busily sorting files, also discreetly gazing at the pair walking across to station one.

Aizawa couldn't shake the feeling (he supposed it was his detective's instinct acting up again) but there was something _really_ funny going on between those two. And he didn't mean the 'haha' funny. He meant the 'what the hell is going on?' type of funny.

Ages ago, when Raito had shown up to help with the case, Aizawa, despite the fact that the chief's son was only a boy right out of high school, was happy for the extra pair of hands.

He'd heard good things about Raito from Chief Yagami, and after meeting him, it was apparent that the chief wasn't over-exaggerating because he was the father.

Yagami's son was an upstanding young man, very intelligent and soft-spoken, with a bright future ahead of him. Although, Aizawa could not help but form a dual opinion about Raito, one that spanned far before they met when L had staked out cameras in his room and made Mogi follow him around.

Raito was apparently quite the ladies' man, going out with four different girls at once and juggling them all with studies at To-oh.

Now Aizawa didn't want to judge, as Raito was at that age where guys were known to do stupid things, but seriously… four girls?! That had kind of pissed him off.

He was raised with the belief that you went out with only _one_ girl and tried your damnedess to get her to like you.

Four girls was clearly pushing it, and he wasn't going to sit here and call the chief's son a slut or something… but well… yeah, that was kind of what it looked like to him.

It was hard to investigate someone you had such diverging opinions on, since to him, Raito was a mixture of vastly intelligence, polite, good-natured and… throws himself at anything that moves – considering the object must be a beautiful young woman with class, although even the class thing was up for debate, since Raito was currently going out with Amane.

So yeah…

On many things concerning Raito, he was still confused. And L's presence only added to that confusion. Aizawa might not have been here for the entire case, but now that he was back, he could definitely see the changes between those two.

At the beginning, Raito had been nice to L, with the latter constantly accusing him of being Kira. Then in the middle, things had become hectic and they fought like two seven year olds in a sandbox. And now, sure they fought and argued, but in retrospect, it wasn't as bad as before.

Raito had become awfully sweet on L, while L was still his charming-as-a-cactus self to them, distancing himself away from the rest of the team, but at the same time, taking Raito along with him, like he didn't want any of them to interfere with whatever was going on…

Did he mention the whispering too? As in the blatant whispering thing they did, like they could care less if anyone saw. Oh, and the speaking in French when the rest of them were working… that was a big favorite -- with no one.

_«__Raito-kun, __puisque __c'est__ Noël __aujourd'hui __j'ai __quelque__ chose pour __vous.__» _(Raito-kun, since today is Christmas, I have something for you.)

_«__Ryu__uzaki... __ce __n'est__ pas le temps.__» _(Ryuuzaki …we don't have time for that.)

_«__Je sais, __mais __ce __serait __inconsidéré__ de ma part __si__ je ne __vous __avais __rien __trouvé__, e__t __j'ai __mes__ raisons.__» _(I know, but it would be thoughtless of me if I didn't get you something, since I have the means to.)

_«__C'est... __gentil, __mais__ je ne __crois__ pas __que__ je __pourrai__ a__ccepter.__ Je __n'ai __rien__ pour __toi.__» _(That's… nice of you, but I don't think I could accept. I didn't get you anything.)

_«__Comme__ je __l'ai __dit, __j'ai __mes__ raisons. Nous __sommes __présentement __menotés__ ensemble, __alors __il __est __peu __raisonnable__ de __penser __ainsi. __J'ai __aussi __acheter__ des __cadeaux__ pour les __autres __membres__ de __l'équipe. __J'ai __demandé__ à __Watari__ de __trouver__ des __présents __que__ les __hommes __généralement __apprécient__ -- __cravates__, eau de c__ologne, __boutons__ de __manchettes__des __choses__ de __ce__ genre. Je __veux __qu'ils __sachent __que __j'ai__ beaucoup __d'estime __pour __leur__ travail. __Ce __n'est __que__ par simple __courtoisie.__»_ (As I said before, I have the means to. You are currently handcuffed to me, so it's unreasonable to think that way. I also bought gifts for the other team members, so it's not a big deal. I had Watari pick out things that men generally use – ties, cologne, cufflinks, things of that nature. I want them to know that I appreciate their hard work. This is simply a courtesy of what they've given back to me.)

_«__C'est __quand __mê__me __très __attentionné__ de __ta__ part.__» _(It's still very thoughtful of you.)

_«__Je __n'ai__ pas __mis__ beaucoup __d'effort__ à __trouver __ces __cadeaux. __Watari __s'en __est__ chargé. __Mais__ je __lui __ai __indiqué __ce __que__ je __voulais __qu'il __achète__ pour __vous, __alors __même __si__ je __n'ai __pu __aller __l'acheter __moi-même__, je __veux __que __vous __considérez __ce __présent __comme __s'il __venait __directement__ de __moi.__» _(I did not put much effort into their gifts. Watari was the one to pick them out. But I told him what to purchase for you, so even if I could not go out and get it myself, I would like to think that it is a direct gift from me to you.)

Raito had braced an elbow on the table, his chin now resting in that hand as he studied L for a second. He smiled at the detective. _«__Tu __es__ adorable.__» _(You're very sweet.)

Aizawa watched L scratch behind his head and look down at his feet. He didn't reply, but only sat there, almost like he had no idea what to do.

Aizawa didn't know why, but he suddenly felt very queasy. He turned back towards the screens and hoped the boredom that came along with monitor-duty would override the sudden feelings of weird embarrassment that was churning in his gut.

**…………****………………………..**

"I have a pretty good idea of how much this cost."

The sun was setting, and light was seeping in through the blue curtains of the room and warming up a patch of the comforter on the bed they shared.

Raito held up his present and L responded to the rebuke in his voice.

"Then keep it a secret -- I don't want Raito-kun to know."

"L…" Raito sighed in that way that was becoming as familiar to him as L's voice. "Don't you think this is a bit too much? I really can't accept this."

Raito watched him pass a hand over the square of sunlight on the blanket, letting it warm his fingertips.

"Please don't worry about it. I would just like you to accept and we shall leave it at that."

Raito looked off to the side, away from the small black box lying topside and the silver string that once held everything in place. His fingers were cool as they touched his present, a silver watch, unadorned, but the pieces inside the glass very intricate.

"It's nice. You have good tastes."

Raito took off his old one and carefully rested it on the nightstand while snapping the new one into place on his wrist. "I feel like you're spoiling me," he said with a laugh. "That's why I feel I should refuse. You understand where I'm coming from, don't you?"

L looked over at him. "Somewhat. You're the kind of person that can't take a gift without feeling indebted. I did not really think about how it could insult you… sorry."

L apologizing to him was always something new, but Raito did not dwell too long on it, his body already taking action towards improving the disposition of the room.

Crawling to L's side of the bed, Raito leaned into him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "But instead of feeling insulted, I could always make it up to you," Raito whispered, digging his other hand insinuatingly into L's back.

L was looking down between them and not meeting his gaze. Raito took that moment of distraction to drop a kiss on the edge of his jaw. He then playfully nipped at the skin below his ear, and after a few more less than gentle bites, he playfully breathed into the whorled center. "Guess what I sneaked into the room with us?"

Switching over to the other ear, Raito resumed laving attention on that particular part. He latched onto the underside of the lobe, a place where L's hair would easily hide any incriminating marks, and began to suck a bruise into livid color on his skin. He could hear how loud L was breathing, and provoked by that near-pant, he slowly licked his way across his jaw and towards his mouth.

Raito was more than ready to push L down, and so, as impatient for his pleasure as ever, he pressed himself against the detective, his voice already murmuring out the answer to the question he had asked a few breaths ago.

"You like whip-cream, don't you?"

The flinch from the body under him made the bed tremble sharply before going completely still. L had his hands on his shoulders, but instead of pulling him forward, they were gently nudging him away.

Raito watched, suddenly confused as the detective sat up and moved more to his side of the bed.

Did… did he just blow him off?

Frowning, Raito sat up, a question already forming on the tip of his tongue. "What's wrong?" he asked, trying to sound concerned when he was more annoyed with the behavior directed at him.

What the hell had that been about?

L was clearly aroused, if the hardness against his leg had anything to say about it, and the whip-cream idea seemed to get the same reaction out of him, if sharper by the suddenness of that flinch.

L's body seemed to be enjoying what he was doing.

So then why was he pushing him away?

"Sorry, I don't feel too well today…" L had his hands around his legs, his head now resting on the shelf that his knees created and eyes staring down at his toes.

Not feeling well? If it was the problem of getting it up, this situation would have made more sense, but L didn't have any trouble there, so why in the world was he avoiding him?

For the past week and a half this had _actually_ been an off and on thing with them. L would seem fine one minute, and then in the next he would lapse into an uncomfortable silence that both perplexed and annoyed Raito.

Raito was practically throwing himself at L for goodness sake -- a thing that many people would have killed for.

What was his problem?

"Is there anything I could do?" Raito asked and watched L closely.

L shook his head, remaining in his almost curled up state, and behind Raito's currently sympathetic exterior, his scowl deepened. He had actually been looking forward to capping off the day with L giving him some due attention, and to be so abruptly turned away… it thoroughly aggravated him.

Not that he could do anything about that, he thought spitefully, before naturally falling back into his supportive role.

"You should get some sleep then," his brain offered on autopilot, while at the same time furiously turning over things he had done and said over the past twenty-four hours, picking apart any event that would shed light upon L's strange behavior.

Occupied in his own stupor of thought, Raito absently leaned over L's side of the bed and switched off the lamp.

With the immediate absence of illumination, the twilight, radiating from the partitions in the curtains, changed half the room into a dull pinkish-orange color. Everything it touched losing the usual patina it held during day, and growing dim and faded.

There was a moment of utter silence between them, where it almost seemed like dusk, finished snuffing out the light outside, had crept into their room and done the same to the sound. Raito ruffled the blankets, attempting to disturb the quiet that had descended.

L was still sitting there and staring at his feet, face blank, and eyes just as empty.

Raito had an urge to sleep facing away. It was preferred, rather than waking up in the dead of the night and seeing L, wide-awake, and sitting in the same spot he had left him.

Rolling over on his other side, palm pillowing his head, and eyes closing shut, Raito forced himself to sleep. He nodded off for about an hour before the fact that he was such a light sleeper started to work against him, the little shifts on the other side of the bed thrusting him out of slumber and into the surrounding darkness.

As the bed dipped under moving weight, Raito felt a presence right behind him.

Everything went absolutely still before the bed shifted again and a hand slipped into the space of Raito's elbow, wrapping around his waist and surprising him. And despite catching him totally unawares, Raito kept himself in check, slow and even breaths leveling out the sudden spike in pulse.

Another hand was wrapping around him, working in conjunction with the other to pull him back. Raito felt L's forehead touch the space between his shoulders.

This was…

_What was this?_

Raito shifted, trying to slip free, but L squeezed him tighter.

"I thought you were tired?" Raito said jokingly. He was anything but.

"Please let me sleep this way," L whispered.

Sleep? If L didn't want sex from him… then why was he so close?

They_ always_ slept on separate sides of the bed. Sex wasn't going to change their habits and preferences. Established comfort zones being what they were and circulating distrust being at an all time high – what exactly did L think he was doing?

Raito watched the pale arms wrapped securely around his midsection, and from this angle, something seemed almost surreal about them.

Raito tried to overcome the utter bizarreness of this situation and focus on the real problem. L was acting strange, that much he knew, and it had only started happening after they had come back from their last meeting with the Father.

Did he know…? Did he know that his last days were upon him? He must suspect. Or was he simply becoming anxious for that deathnote?

Raito did not care to retie the bonds that were slowing unwinding between them. There simply was no use for it. All he could do now was continue to keep L numb to the fact that everything was slowly crumbling around him…

"L?"

There was no answer, but Raito knew he was awake.

"L?" Raito called again, but with a little more force behind it.

There was still no response.

"What's wrong?" Raito asked, fed-up of the silence.

"What did you want to be when you were a child?"

Raito blinked and immediately wondered what that had to do with anything.

L seemed to take his silence as a request to explain himself. "I was only curious," he said. "You don't have to answer me if you don't want to. I just wanted to know.

It was a strange thing to ask out of the blue like that, but if it would lessen some of L's apprehensions towards him, then Raito would go along.

"Kids are never decisive," Raito started. "I guess at the time I wanted to be anything that interested me for the day."

"Any particulars?"

Raito relaxed and tried not to be so mindful of the body next to him. "I intended to be a police officer since my dad was one, but then my reasons changed since I knew I would be good at it. I've always wanted to help others, after all."

"Was there anything else?" L questioned.

"You might make fun of me," said Raito, as his memory reeled back to years ago, to a time when life had been a single, straight path with no divergences.

"I won't" L said simply.

"I wanted… to be an astronaut once. It was stupid," Raito quickly dismissed. "I was really young and my mom would constantly tell me she'd rather I become that than a cop. At the time, I didn't understand why she said that, but she was always worried for my dad when he started the force and would go out on night patrols." Raito then laughed as something caught his attention. "But if I had become an astronaut like she wanted, I'd still be in danger and I'd never be home."

"And the reason you wanted to be an astronaut?" L inquired, as if seeing the entire reasoning behind a five year old would lead him to understand an eighteen-year old Raito.

"Because one of their job descriptions requires them to float around all day," Raito chuckled. "Does that seem stupid?"

"No," L answered, voice strangely serious for what they were talking about. "It's not stupid. It's not stupid at all."

The hands around him tightened, those arms gradually dragging him back even further into their hold, legs also tangling with his.

When L spoke again, it was barely above a whisper, and with his already raspy and low voice, his words seemed to meld together.

"So what would you like to do now?"

"I thought it was obvious," Raito replied. "I plan to work for the NPA after I finish college."

"Yes, I know," L said.

'Then why'd you ask?' Raito thought, wondering where he was getting at.

There was a lengthy pause before L spoke again. "You're going to work for your father?"

"I plan to."

L paused again. "But would it matter who you worked for? Do you specifically want to work for your father?"

Raito had been staring at the white vase on the nightstand across from him, the lily contained within looking both serene and lonely in its fragile casing. His eyes however darted away from that vigil, pupils now straining against his marginal sight to get a glimpse of L's face and to make certain what his ears could not.

"Does that bother you?"

The reason why Raito felt so strange now wasn't because L was asking him questions. That was normal. It was the manner in which he asked him… almost like he was afraid of something…

"…yes."

"Why?"

Raito's eyes floated back towards the colorless vase, standing there, proud, but pallid and washed-out in comparison to the darkness surrounding it.

L had curled into himself. Raito could feel breath stutter across his nape, and as he closed his eyes, waiting for the eventual answer, a dread like no other seemed to consume him.

He was anxious for what L was about to say, yes, but it also…

"I would like you to work for me."

…scared him.

"But I don't think it would be something you would be interested in," L quickly added, "and I would be fine with that.

Normally, when L spoke, lie and truth were indistinguishable, coming off as the same side of a coin, and creating doubt to surface between them.

Raito narrowed his eyes in the darkness. Right at this moment, however, he could say without a doubt that L was lying right to his face.

"You would? You'd let me go that easily?"

It was important to see L's reaction. It would confirm something that he suspected for some time now. "I will prove my innocence, and when we do catch the real Kira, I'll have to go back to my life and you to yours."

"I've never believed in forever," L stated. "I don't think you ever have either."

Raito kept quiet.

"But memories are nice things to hang onto" L drawled, tone oddly hushed, "so even if we never see each other after this case, I will always look fondly upon the time we had together."

"Sounds like your dumping me," Raito said with a wry twist of the lips so it was heard in his voice.

"I'm not the marrying type," L said, a hint of his dry wit surfacing. "But we were always friends somewhere along the way…"

"Mm," Raito agreed with a half-hearted attempt. He trailed his fingers over the hand over his waist. "I've had friends before… but I don't really know what category you go in," he said, a bit of truth trickling past his lips. "I think… maybe we're best friends now."

"Is that what we've become?" L asked, soft contentment, like that for the death of something miserable, yet nostalgic, emanating from his voice.

"Were we really ever cut out for anything else?"

"No… I suppose you're right." L held him tighter. "I hope that you are very happy throughout your life, Raito Yagami. Even if I am not there to see, I would like for you to remain the way you are…"

L's hands burrowed into his shirt and twisted the fabric a little, one of those hands had also spread over the middle of his chest, a spider-web of fingers strung over the place where existed underneath layers of skin and blood, his heart.

"But if I had the chance…" L breathed against his nape, "…I think I would like to keep you."

Raito closed his eyes, certain now in his answer to the reason why L had been acting so strange for the past week. He let his fingers drift over his own wrist and over the watch there.

The breathing behind him began to even out after some time. Raito continued to toy with his present, his mind blank, except for acknowledging the tireless motions of his fingers over the banded metal.

It really was a nice thing to get him, practical, and at the same time very affectionate.

He would be sure to throw it away after L's death.


	12. Dieu de la Nuit et de la Lune

_--God of the Night and the Moon-- _

_Sitting in the shadow of one of Lourdes' towers, and merging into the snow that collected at its base, lived a white demon… _

_A pure, white demon… _

_Like nothing Rene had ever seen before. _

_But he had – He had seen it, with his own two eyes. There -- up past the gilding and trim of the cathedral, past the dirt and grim that could not be reached and washed away. There. Amongst a fog of change, there, sat a lily-colored demon… _

_And oh, what a beautiful demon it was… _

**………….. **

_12/31/04: 11:13am _

Aiber and Wedy were sitting at an outside café.

Wedy was stylishly arranged in some fur ensemble that turned many a fellow's head on the street, and Aiber was smartly dressed in a suit, without the tie and the trappings of the buttoned-down look.

The both of them made quite a pair as they lounged, coffees untouched, smoking cigarettes, and looking far cooler than the snow-covered sidewalks at their feet.

_"Bonjour,"_ L greeted.

_«Et bonjour à vous messires. Comment puis-je vous aider?__» _(And hello to you sirs. What can I help you with?) Aiber expressed, as he snubbed out his cigarette in an ashtray and hospitably offered them seats.

Miss Wedy, on the other hand, was too busy to acknowledge their presence, reapplying powder and looking far too good in a whole lot of dead mink.

When they were seated and orders were taken, discussion naturally revolved around Lourdes, with informal bits thrown in whenever a staff member journeyed a little too closely to their table.

L and Aiber did most of the talking. There was the occasional add-on from Wedy when questions arose in her field of expertise, but other than that, the half-an-hour was generally spent going over what was to happen on January the first.

Raito saw no need to participate, leaving him time to dawdle on his tea and the scenery around him.

After some time spent pensively picking at his sandwich, Raito felt the stare of another on him. His eyes naturally glided towards L, but the detective was engaged in business-talk with Aiber and obviously not the culprit -- which only left one person…

However, the person in question was currently wearing dark shades that hid her line of sight. But Raito was pretty certain she was looking at him, as her lips were pursed in that half-pout of assessment that she liked to judge others with.

Raito did not smile at her to ease any kind of tension, as it would be completely lost on this woman, who only seemed to value her compact and her finery than any gentlemanly courtesies he could display.

And as he continued to watch her, Raito could not help but think she really did come off as the type of woman that would play hard to get to the bitter end, the type, he thought amusingly, that kept her suitors at arm's length and their wallets a lot closer.

Raito thought he preferred women that way, the ones who wouldn't give up without a fight, who were as hard to boss around as he was, and who had class to spare – too bad he only knew the _other_ kind.

Blowing the steam from his drink, Raito favored Miss Wedy with the same look she was appearing to give him, that impassive and uninterested gaze.

_«Semblerait qu'on a ennuyé l'autre moitié de table.__»_ (Seems we've bored the other half of the table) Aiber suddenly said, smiling at the woman beside him. Miss Wedy turned her head in his direction, her red lips completely devoid of any expression.

_«Vous voyez avec quoi nous devons travailler. Les belles femmes sont les pires. Elles vous dévorent vivant avec leur apathie.__»_ (You see what I have to put up with all day. Beautiful women are the worst. They eat you alive with their apathy) Aiber complained comically, throwing a hand up next to his face in a tired gesture, as a waiter began to clean the table adjacent to theirs.

When the waiter clumsily dropped a glass and did not look like he was going anywhere anytime soon, Aiber turned his eyes on Raito and smiled at him.

_«Est-ce votre première visite en France?__»_ (Is this your first time in France?)

Raito obliged him in diversionary small talk with a nod of the head._«J'ai toujours voulu venir visité, mais maintenant que j'y suis, je ne désire point partir.__» _(I've always wanted to visit, but now that I'm here, I don't feel much like leaving) he said. _«Si ce serait que de moi, le vol de départ nous mènerait directement à Paris.__»_ (If I had my way, the return flight would lead directly to Paris.)

Aiber stared at him, but when he spoke again, he was clearly speaking to L, despite facing forward. _«Il parle comme si son père avait eu une affaire avec une Française de classe aristocratique.__»_ (He speaks French like his father had an affair with an upper-class French woman.)

Raito assumed he was being complimented, but the way Mr. Aiber put it, one had to wonder…

_«Je ne pense pas que Raito-kun apprécierait se faire appeler un enfant illégitime.__»_ (I do not think Raito-kun would appreciate you calling him an illegitimate child,) L said brusquely to the man as he sipped his tea.

_«Mes excuses…__» _(My apologies then,) Aiber chuckled and winked at Raito to show no hard feelings, despite his employer getting suddenly huffy at his suggestion. When the older man glanced over at L again, he made a mysterious 'hmm' sound and raised an eyebrow.

**"…"**

_Really_, Raito sighed internally, Aiber might be an expert at behavioral analysis, but was it really that obvious that L and he were sleeping together?

After the waiter left, and until then and the time to leave, L and Aiber continued on with business. When the time came to depart, Aiber placed down a sum of money that would cover all orders and rested his coffee cup on the bills.

_«Je dois partir, je vais donc prendre congé avec Mlle Wedy.__»_ (I have to get back, so I shall take my leave with Miss Wedy now.) Aiber politely bided L farewell and when he turned to Raito, he said, _«Ce serait une honte de manquer Paris lorsque vous êtes dans sa cour.__» _(It would be a shame to skip over Paris when you are in her backyard ) He then pointed towards L. _«Je ne crois pas qu'il serait dérangé si vous lui demandiez_._»_ (I do not think he will mind taking you if you ask) and Raito quickly noticed as Aiber said this, L was giving the man a very grumpy look.

**…………. **

_7:16 pm _

As Raito watched L rap lightly on the door in front of him, he stretched out the day's worth of stress that had accumulated in his shoulders and back from sitting in front of the monitors.

They did not have to wait long before the door was answered; opening to reveal his father and the surprised expression he had as he saw who his visitors were.

"Ryuuzaki" he said, and then remembered himself and stepped aside to let the detective and his son pass. "What's wrong?"

Looking around the room, L seemed to not have heard his father's question, until he turned towards the older man and replied, "Nothing, I'm simply intruding for the time being." He glanced away and then added after the fact, "Do you mind?"

"No" his father quickly responded, even when he was clearly confused. "I was actually going back across the hall." Raito noticed that his father's hair was still wet; he had most likely stopped over here to take a shower and change into something clean before heading back to the team.

"Did you need to speak to me about something?"

L stared intensely at Yagami-san before his eyes wondered away again and began to roam around the room. "No," he said dismissively, "I only thought I should take a break from things that have no consequence."

At the moment, an enormous crowd of worshippers, holding candle-light and awaiting the New Year, was camped out on the grounds of Lourdes. There was also another large crowd inside the main hall, where the collective clergy of the Cathedral was busy holding services for those who wanted to bring in the New Year with prayer.

It was very unlikely that anything significant pertaining to the case would happen tonight, being as everyone was so busy over at Lourdes. For now, L had no reason to watch the cameras, and it seemed he wanted to use the small time he was given for other things.

"Then please leave the surveillance up to the team," Yagami-san advised, "tomorrow will be a very tiring day so please get some rest."

L did not give him a reaction, only continuing to absently look around, and in that, Yagami-san took no offense. Striding towards the entrance, he opened the door, but then halted and looked back at his son. "Don't stay up too late Raito."

Raito smiled at the lecturing tone and the too-serious expression on his face as he told him this. "I won't dad."

When his father closed the door behind him, Raito immediately felt L's side of the handcuffs tugging at his wrist. Turning to see what L had gotten himself into, Raito found him already moving towards a certain corner of the room, where, matching with the plain décor, stood an upright piano, dusty black in color and squarish in make.

No choice but to follow, Raito moved along with L. He even took a seat beside him on the matching bench situated in front of the piano.

L had unfolded his legs from the edge of his seat and placed them on floor; he looked a little uncomfortable as he did this, but to compensate for the loss of his habitual posture, he hunched forward, and hooked his toes on the shelf holding the three pedals at the base of the piano.

"It's a waste to get a room with a _Petrof_ and not use it," L told him as he finished arranging himself.

"You play?"

"No, not really," he said and gazed down at the black and white keys in front of him.

"And here I thought you were going to play me something." Raito pressed a finger down on one of the keys and the high resonance broke out louder than he expected.

"Did you have anything specific in mind? Maybe I can stumble through it." L raised his hands over the keys, kept them stiffly poised there, and then turned towards him, appearing to patiently await his cue.

"Are you sure? I might pick something that might make you look clumsy," Raito joked.

"Then do not worry. I always feel clumsy around you – that's only natural since Raito-kun is the way he is." L was staring at him fixedly as he said this, and for the life of him, Raito could not help but feel a tad freaked out by it, especially with how disquietingly bare his features were.

Raito knew that things had settled down as much as they were going to since Christmas, but there were still times when he felt the conflict between them imposing itself.

And it did not help that L was already so awkward. He usually knew how to handle himself in front of others, but for these past few days Raito could see him _actually _struggling with that unwieldy part of his personality.

Oddly enough, it was as if a stranger had stepped into L's place and Raito was slowly getting acquainted with him.

Raito was beginning to see just how…strangely earnest a person L was in his own emotionally stunted way. L was sincerely trying to repair whatever he _thought_ was going on between them – little things that he would ask or say out of nowhere or how he would find ways to get them a little time away from the group – Naturally Raito had worried about the amount of suspicion L was holding over him and if that suspicion was making him act funny like this…

Maybe at first, suspicion was moving L, but now, he had no idea what was driving him. It almost seemed like he was wavering and that his belief in Raito was winning out. Raito could only hope that was the case. He needed L to remain at least partially blind to what was going on.

"To be fair," Raito started up, regaining the control that he always had over any situation, "I'll give you something that's _moderately_ challenging, but not impossible. Although, if I were going to mean about it," he teased, "I could always demand you play me _Godowsky's Etude of Chopin's Op.25 No.1 'Aeolian Harp' Version 2_."

This time, L stared at him with a less intense air. He seemed to be distracted by his request. "Please do not ask me to play something that not even the composer could accomplish."

"I won't," Raito placated, "not until I can see where you're at level-wise. So for now, I'll be requesting _Beethoven's Sonata_ _no. 14 in C-Sharp Minor, op. 27, no. 2. _Do you think you could play that for me?"

"I will try," L told him, as his hands slowly descended towards the keys and he gently started up the first movement of the _Moonlight Sonata_, gradually drawing out the somberness of the piece and beautifully distending it with a layer of piercing and poignant notes floating in and out of volume.

L quickly fell into the unrushed pacing, and as Raito watched his long fingers leisurely climb and drop within the confined space of the first movement, he was amazed at how gracefully they moved over the keys.

The second movement made L pick his hands up faster. Gone was the sad, meditative quality of the first movement, and taking its place was bolder resonance and faster pacing. It was over in less than two minutes, and from there, L quickly transitioned into the final movement, a climbing dash of even faster notes based on arpeggios, but still retaining the poetic grace that was a variant of the first.

L's fingers rapidly moved back and forth, stopping here and there abruptly, and causing jarring sounds that would be built quickly into a crescendo and taken apart just as quickly into a descent before finally coming to its mutually calm end.

When L was done, he rested his hands on his knees and turned towards him. Raito was currently watching him in disbelief.

"You sure are awfully good for someone who never plays."

L shrugged his shoulders. "I might have toyed with one a few times before."

Raito gave him a strange look. "Well if that's the case you're frighteningly good at it."

And it wasn't just empty praise.

When Raito had taken the mandatory semester of music in junior high, he had naturally done what was expected of him. He played the violin and was encouraged by the teacher to pursue the piano as well. He memorized the music easily and played with a fluency that even surprised his instructors. Technically speaking, he was perfect. However…when it came down to the _emotion_ of the piece, his teachers always side-stepped that and focused on his other abilities.

So when everyone else was being congratulated for the _heart_ they put into their playing, the teachers only praised him for his amazing talent for accuracy. He was great at Prestissimos and compositions with many notes, but the slower and more melodic pieces – he actually had trouble with those.

So watching L play and actually capture that elusive sentiment within the sonata, as well as nail the accuracy of the piece, it needn't be said that he was impressed.

Plus L was playing on a modern piano and he had skillfully compensated for the longer sustain times that this specific sonata required of the pedal work.

"I would clap, but I don't think my applauding would be enough."

L glanced over at him and then stared down at the keys in front of him. "I've never had anyone applaud – so I think I would like to hear that sometime."

Raito leaned a bit closer to L and asked somewhat shocked, "You mean no ones heard you play before?"

L looked down at his hands. "Yes, this is the first time I've played for someone."

If that was the case, Raito smiled and put his hands together noisily. "Then I feel sorry for them." Raito stopped clapping and rested his hand on one of L's wrist, moving the hand and placing it back onto the keys. "I want you to play something else for me."

L looked over at him curiously. "Raito-kun is very demanding."

"I was never very good at this sort of thing," Raito confessed, "so for _us_ who are not as musically inclined, I don't think I'm asking for too much."

"I do not believe you," L told him, letting him pick his other hand up and arrange it on the keys. "It seems hard to believe that you have problems with something so simple."

"And you've just insulted _too_ many people to count," he rejoined.

"Raito-kun knows what I mean," L said crabbily, face stuck in that childish pout that he liked to take when he thought no one was looking and which Raito had always found kind of cute.

"Can I ask you something then?"

L scratched the side of his head, making some of the hairs stand out more. "I am listening."

"What other instruments do you play?"

L stared at him and then looked at his hands. "I can play some string instruments."

"And by _some_ I'm guessing you have the entire violin family down."

L shrugged nonchalantly and continued to stare at his hands, by which Raito took as a definite _yes_.

"What about the guitar? Never picked one up before?"

"People go through phases," he answered mysteriously and with a somewhat sour look.

"I'm jealous," Raito sighed, pressing a hand to L's upper arm and leaning against it. "And yet you don't look too thrilled to brag about it. Don't be so modest," Raito teased, and for all his troubles, he got some grumbling.

"I can tell when you are making fun of me."

Raito slipped an arm around L's back and pulled him closer. "And what's wrong with that?" he said smirking. "You have more than enough fun picking on me. For some reason you don't like it when I compliment you, but you never miss a chance to try and flatter me."

"But Raito-kun is better at getting certain reactions from me than I am with him," L defended with that same sour look on his face. "When one looks at it, it is an entirely different thing when I tease you than when you do it."

"You just want to have your way." Raito replied and rested his head on L's shoulder. "But not today, you're going to play me something."

"I originally offered, so going back on my word is not something I would do."

And without prompt, L began to play.

**…………. **

_11:34 pm _

Yagami-san checked his watch and took out his key.

What had brought him back to his room at this time of the night, not even he knew the answer to that, but he had an urge to just go there; even though his son was very well asleep and he would not disturb them by knocking on their door.

He knew it was stupid of him to worry when he had seen Raito some hours before, and leaving the team to go tend to his own anxiousness was past irresponsible, but –

Yagami-san stepped through the threshold, and as he did so he heard, surprisingly enough, the sound of the piano.

"Raito," he called out, and walking into the den, he immediately spotted his son and L.

L looked up as he approached, and when Yagami-san had gotten close enough and opened his mouth to say something, he saw L rest a finger to his lips in a gesture of silence.

Confused as to why he was being shushed, Yagami-san walked to the side of the bench where his son sat and quickly understood why.

Raito was…asleep.

Well -- he had wanted Raito to get some rest, but this wasn't exactly what he had in mind. L seemed to not be bothered by his son using his shoulder as a pillow, but having to support someone like was never too pleasant for everyone involved – although, looking at his son passed out on the other's shoulder, no one could say he appeared to be uncomfortable.

"Is there something you need?" L whispered and subsequently brought him out of his thoughts.

"It's nothing important," he said, continuing to watch his son and forgoing the explanation that he thought no one else but a parent would understand.

L stared, but did not ask more of him, eventually turning back to the piano and continuing to play as if he had never come in. Yagami-san was surprised at how good he was, although he shouldn't have been, considering how talented this young man proved himself to be time and time again.

Soon Yagami-san was able to also get over his initial shock of finding Raito asleep, as he listened closely to the very soothing music floating up from the piano.

He couldn't remember a time when he had seen Raito asleep like this, other than when he was a little boy, and he always liked to stay up with him when he brought his work home.

But that had been such a long time ago and Raito was now practically a grown man. Responsible and mature and as dutiful a son as any would wish for.

He knew every parent thought their child was special and perfect and that no one else could even compare, but Raito was really that for him, too good to be true in a way – even wanting to take after him in career.

What more could a father possibly want?

To him, such a perfect son, how could anyone think he was…

How could L believe he was…

It was unthinkable. It was more than that – it was impossible.

Raito was _not_ Kira.

And looking at L as he played, and at the same time tried not to upset Raito on his shoulder, it didn't look like he believed his son was Kira either. He never knew what was going through the detective's head, but would anyone, who had such strong suspicions – would they be able to sit like that with a guilty person and not show some unease?

Even the reverse was true, however loathe he was of thinking that way, a murderer of Kira's caliber, would he be able to fall asleep so easily around a person that wanted him executed? It made absolutely no sense when watching these two around each other.

Yagami-san had finally gotten to see his son act his age – fighting, complaining, generally be very immature about many things that he normally would have had the patience and calmness to work through.

He supposed since they were so alike that they were bound to start fights with each other. They were both so intelligent and had such strong opinions about how to handle the case that it was a wonder that they talked and joked around as much as they fought.

But people who were _friends_ acted that way with each other. The fact that they were friends had to mean _something_ in terms of Raito's innocence.

He knew that his son was different from other children his age, and he had glimpsed over the years, noticing that Raito had never brought anyone home to meet them, not even so much as a word about someone from school during dinnertime.

He never received any phone calls at home either, his wife had said to him one day and out of blue -- not like how Sayu was _always_ getting. You'd think a teenage boy would speak at least once or twice on the phone throughout his high school years.

Little things that should have been commonplace in someone so friendly, they were nowhere to be found. He understood how important academics were to his son, but did he not care for anything else?

Yagami-san refused to believe that. He could tell that Raito was making an effort to be friends with this boy, and that – that had to mean something. It had to.

Oh god it had to mean _something_.

And even if it broke his heart to think his son wanted to be friends with someone, who after this case was over, would have to erase all traces of his existence and go into hiding again, he wouldn't try to shield Raito from that…

He could only continue to strive forward, hoping and praying along the way that his son would be set free and would be able to return to his normal life, away from L and away from this burden placed on him.

A return to normal life was the ultimate goal that he set in front of him, and no matter what, he would reach it with his son.

After this was all over, Yagami-san felt it was time he should retire from the force and concentrate on his family, because years of neglecting them and putting his career first was no way to live, especially with such a wonderful family waiting for him at home.

"Ryuuzaki," he said, and the younger man immediately stopped playing and stared at him.

"Yes, Yagami-san?"

"It's late – you should get some sleep," he said, pushing off from the wall and making his way towards the bench.

"Yes, I suppose you're right," L answered back, looking to his side where Raito was fast asleep. He rested a hand on the other's back and began to ease him away, but dead weight was a cumbersome thing, and L was having trouble getting Raito to sit up.

Yagami-san watched L place a hand on Raito's shoulder, ready to shake him awake, but he stopped him before he could jostle his son.

"It's alright. Let him sleep," he told L and came around to Raito's side.

L gave him a funny look and then stated the obvious. "Yagami-san, I cannot carry your son. He is heavy."

"Don't worry about it," he answered and put a hand around Raito's shoulders, while simultaneously getting a hand under his knees. It wasn't like he had never done this before; of course, Raito had been much lighter back then and had been prone to shout daddy when he was leaving the house.

He saw L unlocking the handcuff around Raito's wrist and something about that gesture made him feel better for the first time in a long while.

Lifting with his knees, he was able to get Raito properly settled in his arms. He was surprised that Raito hadn't even twitched; he was that deep in sleep.

When they reached the bedroom and he had laid him down, Yagami-san turned around to find L there, staring at him, Raito's side of the handcuffs dragging on the floor. He didn't seem to care if it got caught on anything either.

"In the morning I will tell Raito-kun that he has contributed to his father's back problems," L said out of nowhere.

Yagami-san didn't know whether to chuckle or tell him he wasn't that old, so he kept it to himself. "Ah no, my back's fine," he added uselessly.

"I wasn't going to actually tell him that," L said and looked down at the handcuffs on the floor. His eyes then flickered over to where his son slept.

"Raito-kun is lucky that he has a father that cares for him so much." L walked past him and towards the glass sliding doors that led to the balcony. He moved the curtains to the side and as he gazed out at the city lights he added quietly, "Having that must be nice."

Yagami-san knew that L hadn't meant his words in a way that would cause to upset anyone, but saying something like that…

It was sad -- and it made him remember that this person in front of him was someone's child, or had been once…

"Goodnight Yagami-san," L said, his back still turned to him, as he gazed out at the night sky.

"Ah…goodnight Ryuuzaki," Yagami-san replied and closed the door behind him.

**…………. **

_01/01/05: 12:00am _

Raito started awake at something, his befuddled brain not recognizing the very thing that had awoken him until he heard the noise again, a whizzing sound accompanied by a loud bang.

Setting his feet down on the floor, Raito glanced around at the unfamiliar room and felt even more disorientated.

He knew he had been having trouble falling asleep lately, but that was no excuse to drop his guard whenever he felt comfortable.

Raito rubbed a hand to his neck and recalled earlier that night he'd been sitting with L…

Speaking of which, Raito caught some movement out on the balcony, the opening in the curtains letting him see a portion of L's white-clad back through the glass.

Standing up and making his way towards the glass door, Raito slid it open and stepped out into the cold night. He was suddenly blindsided by a gust of icy wind, and putting a hand up to shield himself from the chill, he walked towards L. Raito settled at his side, noting how calmly L was watching the fireworks off in the distance.

"They are being very inconsiderate to people who are sleeping," L said flatly and glanced over at him.

"I think I can forgive them this one time," Raito told him, as he leaned on the balcony and watched the spectacle of color fall and leave trails in the inky darkness.

Red fireworks spiraled out of the sky next, and the view they were afforded from the balcony seemed to place the explosion next to the full moon, as if it were a rose sprouting up next to a full-blossomed lily.

More colors quickly burst from the darkness in the place of the red, almost as if the rose was shedding its petals and turning into different flowers, first a daffodil, then a cornflower, after that a brilliant wild violet.

Raito breathed in the refreshing coldness. He felt so close to the sky right now, and sure, being ten stories up helped, but there was something else, the utter openness of being out here on the balcony, with the fierce wind and all the exploding colors – he felt like he could just reach out and pluck everything out of the sky – that's how close everything appeared to him.

L was standing right next to him, but Raito felt as though transported – they might be only inches from each other, but to him, the distance felt greater. So vast that he could say he was closer to the moon than he ever was to the person next to him.

There was a great sense of liberation brought forth by that knowledge, and standing up here, with the perspective and the sheer height below him, Raito was suddenly reminded of the freedom he once had; the sovereign he once held over his body and not only his mind, where he could just pick himself up and walk wherever he felt like.

He could now distinctly recall that memory of physical freedom, could feel it so strongly and so clearly that he yearned for it -- yearned for it more than he could stand.

There was also the small ache of humanity – the one that would hit him at strange marks in his life and he thought would continue to, even though he was content in the isolation he created around himself.

Loneliness.

It was an emotion that he thought would be alikened to a creator, as he stared upon the vastness of his kingdom, overcome by the perfectness that he was about to bring into existence, but knowing that he was not a part of that thing he created, he was outside it, far away…

It was the kind of thing that was – that was just right for a God to feel.

God was a singular entity, born from his own righteousness and purpose. There was no one that came before him and there was no one that would come after him that he did not want in his kingdom.

God was always alone. He had a loneliness that was not as forlorn as it was proud and deliberate and justified.

And that…

That suited Raito so much it hurt.

L – he had made him feel a little, had yielded something small and strangely precious to a phase of his life that was coming to an end. L was the last memory that would usher him forth into becoming an adult, and maybe, if he had given it more time to come to fruition, maybe L could have made him feel even more…

There was always a bit of confusion in him about love. He knew it as a tool, as platonic and breakable for the family he had lived with for eighteen years; he knew it as many things, but he didn't know, he didn't know if he could fall in love with someone –

He thought maybe he could, when the right person came along, someone who could understand him and know how he felt and what he was trying to accomplish…

But he and L were _so _far from understanding the other and neither were they even going to try. Raito did not care for L's politics and he knew L did not give a _damn_ about his way of justice.

And that was fine.

Tomorrow he would be free, and no one, no one after L would hold him. This had maybe been his last chance to understand that emotion, to maybe even experience it, but if it did not come for him, then that was fine.

If he could not feel these things now, then he would not look for it after L.

It was an experiment really, as much his game, a question that didn't necessarily need an answer but would have liked one…

_Make me feel something for you… _

_Anything… _

Raito clenched his hands on the stone ledge he was leaning against and felt equally overwhelmed by everything he was and was not feeling.

"Raito-kun…"

Raito snapped out of his thoughts and turned to stare at L sooner than he should have. He worried belatedly if the expression on his face was completely transparent, and noticing how stiff L had gone, he was right to think so.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked out of nowhere, taking a step towards him.

Raito put his hands up suddenly. "Of course not," he appeased, "what would make you think that?"

L stared at him openly, a troubled look on his face as he did. "I feel like you are hiding something from –"

Raito grabbed him by the shirt and suddenly kissed him hard. Self-survival being what it was, he couldn't just let L finish that sentence and he suspected that L didn't really want to either.

Maybe it had been stupid of him to cut L off like that, and maybe it was useless to try, but tonight a strange desperation seemed to take him over. He understood that this was their last night together, that this was _his _last night to be confronted by an equal, to feel that pure, hot-blooded excitement and overwhelming charge that only L knew how to give him.

Because when it all came down it, L was the only person who could make him feel alive like this, and when L was no longer around, he would be bored again.

Of course, he would be sustained by the large-scale project of rebuilding his pure world and by the pride of defeating his greatest rival…

But he would be bored again, and to Raito…

_Boredom was worst than death. _

Raito deepened the kiss between them, and maintaining his hold on that unfortunate piece of shirt in his grasp, he began to back peddle towards the room.

They fell on bed heedlessly, neither of them trying to separate.

L was as aggressive for it as he had been for these past days, continuing to hungrily kiss him as he fumbled with the clasp on his jeans. He finally got it open and Raito kicked them off, one of his hands pressing into L's skull and keeping that mouth on his.

He felt L tugging at the buttons on his shirt, opening them in whichever order his blind fingers could carry out, and after a valiant effort of trying to undress him that way, L thoroughly gave up and hastily started snapping them open.

Raito had his own problems to worry about, as he one-handedly yanked up L's t-shirt, and quickly realized they'd have to stop kissing for him to get any farther than that. Not willing to try that one out for size, Raito diverted his attention to opening L's jeans.

There wasn't any lubricant nearby, so they went without, something that Raito would be regretting in the morning, but had the tolerance to take. It was difficult to move around for the both of them and they were clumsier than usual and more anxious – but L had moaned the whole way through about how tight he was and Raito had forgotten everything, including his name, as L used his hands on him.

It was intense and painful and so good that Raito had said words that he thought L would _want_ to hear after something like that. They weren't true and they certainly were apart of the illusion he had built up around them, but he was offering them anyway for the sake of a little corner of him that happened to really like L and maybe thought that if things were different…that maybe…

L had clutched onto his front as he settled down for the night, eyes wide open and staring right at him. And Raito should have felt unnerved by it, but for some reason tonight, he couldn't find a reason to as he embraced him back.

Raito could feel L's heartbeat through his own chest as they held onto each other, could feel how wide awake and tense he was and even the unblinking stare.

He thought he could feel everything from just that embrace alone; all L's insecurities, his pride, his courage, his pain…

Even the part that was in love with him…

…Raito thought he could feel that too.

**

* * *

A/n:** You know I've been wondering who the favorite out of those two are. I've never seen a poll for death note, knowing me I probably missed it, but I think it would be fun if the readers out there, who feel like reviewing, if they would say who their favorite is. Raito or L? Hands down my favorite is Raito, because what can't you not like about him? He's charismatic, has a strong sense of justice, and throws the _best_ hissy fits. 

**1. Moonlight Sonata** – Written in 1801, Beethoven dedicated this to his pupil Countess Giulietta Gucciardi. Some biographers think that the sad quality of the sonata's first movement reflected the unshared love that Beethoven had for the countess. They also think, since Beethoven was so madly in love with Giulietta and had hopes to marry her, that this was reflected in the chaotic third movement. But according to another biographer by the name of Fischer, the sonata has nothing to do with romance and more to do with the feelings Beethoven had as he stayed by the side of one of his friends and watched him die. So it's not clear if the inspiration for this piece is a ballad or a funeral hymn.


	13. Le tintement d'une épiphanie

**A/n:** So…I don't have the French dialogue for this chapter, but I should get them from my translator soon. I wanted to wait, but Savina is nice and told me to post right away. So here it is, remember, French dialogue in italics. Oh and the poll was very informative, L won -- and oh the unhappiness. Raito was leading at first, but then L came in and swept the rug from right under his feet. Somewhere in the middle they were exchanging blow for blow, but in the end Raito lost 13-17. Eight were undecided or liked them both, and the rest of you were like Mello's sunglasses so totally kick both their asses! Or was that just me…?

* * *

_--The Tolling of an Epiphany--_

_January 1, 2005_

The three crosses were the first thing Raito saw of the Cathedral as he stepped out of the car and onto the snow-covered pavement. Rem was perched on the zenith of that wooden trinity, slit eyes gazing down at him.

She knew.

L stepped out after him and they silently made their way towards the entrance, the sounds of the morning Mass carrying through the doors.

People were kneeling down in the nave and offering prayers before taking their seats.

L knelt down and Raito did the same.

After a minute, he impatiently glanced over at L, noting that he was staring down at the floor and appearing deep in thought.

Was he _actually_…?

"L…are you praying?" he asked, perversely curious.

Standing up and giving him an odd look in the process, L replied, "You do not need to be religious to hope."

He then quietly took a seat on a nearby bench. Raito sat next to him.

The choir sang the _Ave Maria in _accompaniment with the organ; their swelling voices echoing within the church, sweet and morose, like that of a thousand weeping cherubs.

Raito dared not close his eyes to listen. The voices were suddenly frightening; he could feel his heart beating intensely, so intensely that he feared he might be taken away from himself…

But when faced with conflict that threatened to tip him out of its favor, how could he remain calm? This feeling was at the very core of what made his battles with L so gratifying.

Without this nervousness, without this fear that felt like it was simultaneously trying to tear out his heart and choke him, none of this would be worth it.

Raito held onto that thought, gripped it like he had L last night, as the voices rose to unsettling volume and pierced through his body.

He knew what he had to do and he would do it without fail.

**…………**

"_Happy New Year,"_ Ignatius jovially greeted.

"_Happy New Year, Father," _Raito greeted back, smiling and taking one of the man's bigger palms in his, _"I also hope your Christmas was spent in as enjoyable company as this morning's services."_

"_The same to you – I've always believed that a man should be surrounded by close ones during this time of the year. Luckily for me,"_ he said, spying at the church's entrance, _"everyone that comes through those doors I consider a part of my family."_

"_You have a big family then,"_ Raito understated, which made the other chuckle. Although that laugh faded as the old priest watched his vicar solemnly walk off to go collect chairs, not even a greeting in passing.

"_Please do not mind Rene. He will come around to you, as I have,"_ he urged frankly, for which Raito smiled warmly and followed him up the nave and towards the lectern.

**…………**

It was apparent by the Father's welcome and the very familiar way he continued to speak to him that Raito had already won over his confidence.

"_I'm sorry about being so forward like this; the questions I asked were of a personal nature and really none of my business, but I certainly am grateful for the tolerance on your part." _

Raito shook his head. _"It's your basic right to know the kind of person you'll be placing your trust in. Please do not hesitant to ask me anything more."_

"_No, that's quite all right. I've been enough of a nuisance for today,"_ rubbing his hands together as if rinsing them in a sink, Father Ignatius stood up from his seat and dallied in front of the altar.

Hesitantly he walked towards his vicar, hand gesturing for him to stand. _"Rene, would you watch the doors for me -- not to be deceitful of my brothers at this church, but it would be wise if we had no witnesses other than the Virgin."_

Rene gave him a peculiar look. _"I do not agree with any of this,"_ he paused, _"but I will be at the doors if you need me."_

"_I am in your debt Rene"_ the Father replied, quickly moving towards the altar and the grand ivory screen behind it, the colorful images and imbedded statues of Mother Mary staring down at them from her high post.

He brusquely passed the retable and down he went to the three stairs that brought him to the very back of the church. The Father brushed aside a narrow red and gold-trimmed banner that flowed down the apse wall and to the floor, revealing an arched doorway caged with bronze bars.

"_Would the two of you follow me please?"_ he asked and the gate was opened with a key retrieved from his black cassock.

When all filed through the entrance, they were met with a long, dark corridor that smelt strongly or dirt and incense.

"_After the first sighting of Mother Mary in 1858,"_ Father Ignatius suddenly started up, _"it was quickly decided by the papacy in the area that a small chapel should be built here."_

He began to thread down the unlit path, counting on only the sunlight at their backs, streaming in through the Cathedral, to guide the way.

"_Of course,"_ he resumed, _"a small chapel does not remain small when its pilgrims continue to grow; additions were naturally made…"_

As they turned the corner and the darkness grew thicker, the Father reached into his pocket and flipped open a lighter.

Raito stared questioningly at it.

"_I smoke off and on,"_ he replied with a chuckle, laugh somewhat uncomfortable and showing that he wanted to move on. Raito smiled and let him.

"_Now many of the extensions haven't always been in the name of God, as you've probably seen the many shops catering to the tourist around these grounds. I am not so old-fashioned or sheltered by my way of life to understand that funds are necessary to keeping any institution going."_

"_But when the church resorts to feeding off the grievances of its supporters…"_ the father said, suddenly trailing off mysteriously before resuming out of nowhere.

"_You might not know this, but a few years after this Cathedral was built, this place served as an underground cemetery. You see, we have a high rate of terminal patients who come to drink from the springs in hope that they can be healed by the Virgin…" _

"…_Unfortunately, these patients are usually on their last legs, after all forms of medicine and advice from doctors have failed them. It is sad to see them walking about the grounds, not wanting to return to any hospital, but wanting to live out their last days with a semblance of peace." _

"_Many have died here so it is no surprise that in their wills they express a last desire to be buried at Lourdes and remain near the Holy Mother. But this last wish makes it very difficult for their families to heed their instructions, because Lourdes at the time did not have a cemetery and did not allow the dead to take up residence."_

Father Ignatius then shook his head, as if contradicting himself. _"We supposedly did not allow burials, but the church dishonorably made exceptions for wealthier patrons who were nearing that age and wanted special consideration." _

"_Then they began to open up this offer to others, those who had no status, but who were more than willing to pay. It also did not help that our clergy at the time was promising their blessings for those who put out the most profit."_

"_They took advantage of the families wanting to lay their loved ones to rest here, taking their money and then sending them on their way. These catacombs were dug out for the very purpose of carelessly tossing the caskets down here, keeping them out of sight and mind." _

Father Ignatius swept out his hand to the surrounding darkness. _"All these chambers and corridors – just imagine coffins everywhere. Rats and vermin of all sorts crawling about, drawn to the smell of rotting flesh. To think that under the beautiful exterior of our fair Marian shrine this existed…"_

"_And the worst part of it all was that decades went by and no one even raised a finger, so even as a young man, I got to see firsthand what was going on down here." _He shook his head hotly, pace quickening.

"_It was only made to close down because of the stench, not because of the health hazard it posed or the injustice done to the families who wanted a proper burial for their loved ones."_

Even in the semi-darkness, Raito could clearly see the wrinkles on the priest's forehead bunch together in aggravation. _"Everyone involved was not asked to leave the church – or even given lesser positions; it was as though it never happened."_

Ignatius went tight-lipped when they turned a corner, like he was holding himself back from saying some very uncivil things about his fellow priests.

It was clear that the old man had been holding this in for some time now, patiently waiting to admit this to someone he trusted…

Not that he really cared, Raito thought, looking around the hall they travelled through and more surprised that something as complex as this could exist under the Cathedral.

When Wedy had gone over the schematics of the main building and the other chapels, she had not even mentioned this. Although…

Raito glanced over at L, the flickers of illumination from the lighter adding another dimension of shadow under those already coal-stained eyes.

L did not appear to be the least bit surprised by his surroundings. Knowing him, he had probably gotten private updates over the phone from Wedy.

Raito hoped private updates were all he got. L had a nasty habit of surprising the hell out of him when his back was turned. If Wedy had been able to sneak her way down here from another entrance, she could have very well run across the deathnote…!

But L had been so stubborn about allowing anyone under his services prolonged stay within the main building. And if Wedy had snuck down here, she would have had only a minimal amount of time to snoop around before reporting back. This place was practically a maze; there was no way for someone, even with her skill of dealing with unfamiliar environments, to navigate this area and have the time to spare for searching.

In such a vast space, the death note could have been hidden _anywhere_.

Raito watched the priest halt suddenly, his eyes squinting in the near darkness, the lighter in his hand swinging back and forth like a pendulum between a group of coffin-sized openings in the wall.

Raito's eyes widened. He was searching along with the priest now, eyes, the only thing moving, as they darted quickly from one pitch-black crevice to the other.

But dammit…how could you tell?

There were no markings, no anything to give away where he had placed it, and the color of the deathnote made it that much harder, blending in so completely that where the book began and the darkness ended was indistinguishable.

Raito felt frustrated that he could not find his prize before this man whose vision was probably half his. But his annoyance was quickly forgotten as the priest blindly reached into one of the holes and suddenly pulled out…

…**the death note!**

Thinking that the anticipant glaze to his eyes would surely give him away and fearing discovery, Raito began to move more into the shadows, away from the light's radius --

L suddenly grabbed him by the hand. Raito was brought up short, but saved himself from a tumble in the darkness by bracing against the wall.

"What?" Raito asked, not even trying to mask his annoyance.

He immediately noticed that the Father was not paying attention to them, his head turned towards the low ceiling; he seemed to be listening for something. L seemed to be listening for something too and Raito went absolutely still as he heard what it was.

"_I knew Priest Coeur had not long to live, but how very sudden this is,"_ Father Ignatius said, regretfully and more to himself. _"Bless his heart,"_ he lamented, as he got down on his knees and began praying for what Raito assumed was a fellow priest on his deathbed.

The _passing bells_ were ringing slowly and solemnly, emanating their mournful song from even in the pits of this Cathedral where they all stood transfixed.

Under the cover of darkness, the hand on his tightened, and the bells seemed to reverberate that much louder, chanting the doleful recount of a faceless man's years of life.

Raito counted them out as they came, ninety-two in all, a long life, he thought momentarily before he squeezed the hand back in his grasp and let it go.

He felt L's eyes on him as he moved away and towards the kneeling priest, his hand outstretched to help him up.

"_I'm so sorry for your loss,"_ Raito told him and the man shook his head, dismissing his condolences and suddenly laying the death note to rest in one of his palms.

Raito looked down at it surprised and the man moved away.

"_I do not think I can properly mourn my friend if I am holding onto such a thing,"_ he explained. _"I also do not think I am strong enough to bear the weight of this secret anymore. Please forgive me if I am hasty – but I do not want that book near this church. I cannot trust anyone with it here and neither do I want to. So please, Mr. Nikolai"_ he entreated, _"Take that thing away with you and find and punish this person that hates humanity so much that he would use it on us."_

Raito stood stunned at the man's plea, answering only from habit _"Of course, you have my word. I will do everything in my power to bring this to an end. I promise you, Father Ignatius."_

"_Thank you"_ he heard the father sigh out, as if those fragile, unreliable words could assuage the pain in his heart. _"Thank you so much"_ he repeated and stepped lifelessly back onto the path, all his energy extinguished, as if handing over the death note was the only thing that had kept him going until now.

Raito stared after the old man but what really had his attention was the death note in his hands. His heart was hammering a mile a minute, and as he caught L in his peripheral, staring at him so strongly, it felt like it was about to explode.

L wanted the death note. That bastard wanted to see if the rules he suspected false were indeed as such. But Raito was not going to make it easy for L; he would not hand it over to him yet and L would not ask for it in front of the Father.

A long spear of light was what confronted Raito as they neared the exit -- and those bells again, they were suddenly clanging terribly, reverberating through his chest and his head and driving him absolutely crazy.

Raito walked faster out of the avid darkness, letting out a quiet breath of relief as he left the catacombs and the tinny of bells ceased.

Light was flushing in through the stained glass on all sides of them, with even more sunlight leaping in through the immense rose window over the west entrance, the red color in the mosaic of Christ's Crucifixion projecting out onto one of his hands and the space between him and L.

"Give me the notebook," he heard L say, his voice low so the Father with his back to them could not hear.

Raito did not say anything, handing it over without hesitance --

And the doors at the west entrance suddenly slammed shut; the light that it once cast lost, a block of shadow now in its place, as the crimson from that rose window continued to flow out and the radiant spears of light pierced all around them.

L stared at the door, the death note forgotten in his hands.

Raito suddenly felt L roughly take hold of his elbow and pull him towards the east entrance. "We are leaving now," he said, taking out his cell phone and already dialing a number.

"But Father Ignatius – what about --?" Raito stuttered out in his best impersonation of puzzlement. He did not need to keep it up for long, not as Rene stepped through the door they were heading to, a group of six following behind.

"_Rene?"_ Father Ignatius questioned, as he turned towards the commotion. He noted the faces behind his vicar. _"I did not know you had a group study today…well you may use this room, but I would just like a few more minutes with –"_

Rene walked right up to them, while a tall blond man, separating from the group, grabbed the old priest and began to usher him towards the right arcade of the church, where there was an antechamber that led to a small chapel.

"_What – what do you think you're doing? Take your hands off me. Rene! What in god's name does this man think he's --"_

"_Please do not interfere, Father,"_ Rene dismissed, and without further ado, the blond man disappeared with the old priest into the antechamber.

"_Is this L?"_ one of the men behind Rene piped up, reaching inside his jacket and pulling out a gun. He pointed it directly at him and Raito felt his blood run cold.

"_Yes – and that one_" Rene pointed at L _"is the bodyguard."_

"_Got it,"_ another man, this one in a black coat, stepped out from the group and moved towards L. He aimed his gun directly at the detective.

The sound of a gunshot echoed eerily off in the distance, towards the antechamber and inside the chapel.

"_If you know what's good for you,"_ the man in the black coat suddenly spoke up _"you'll hand that over to me now," _and with the gun's muzzle, he was indicating the deathnote.

Raito saw that L's hands were shaking as he gripped onto the deathnote -- but by the look on his face, the emotion he was experiencing now was not fear…

Frustration.

It was frustration for coming so close. It was the single frustration of watching all your hard work and preservation go down the drain right in front of you. L's eyes were so hard and yet so expressive, so bitter and angry; it was the look a child had when they had built up a mighty tower only to see it come crashing down.

"_Is this guy deaf?"_ the gunmen mocked when L did not readily comply. The blonde man who had disappeared into the antechamber with the old priest was returning, the gun limp at his side and eyes a little unsteady.

"_Well fuck him then,"_ someone else from behind Rene blurted, pulling out a gun of his own and also aiming it at L. _"We only need L as a hostage, so put this bastard out of his misery and let's go already."_

Raito hastily stepped in front of the immobile detective, the move startling one of the gunmen, but Rene raised a hand and halted him.

Clutching L tightly by the arms, Raito tried to get his attention, but L only stared blankly forward, face completely void, as if something had finally snapped in his head.

"Raito…" he mumbled and Raito with bowed head could finally feel those eyes on him --

They knew, they knew what he had done, they knew without a doubt, but they still wanted to believe…

Raito raised his head and for once faced that stare truthfully -- and everything about L seemed to stand still as he in turn faced the person cruelly smiling back at him.

Raito had never wanted to give L hope.

He had only wanted to crush him.

"**You should have never tried to take me head on. It was stupid of you to think you could win against God, but really none of that matters anymore, because either way L…"**

Raito sank his fingernails into L's arm, the smile on his face widening as he fed off the splintering gaze that stared back at him.

"**I win."**

Raito was suddenly yanked back by Rene and L faltered forward one step, a small step, but one that was more than enough reason for the trigger-conscious man to his right to act upon…

Falling to one knee, Raito watched blood spread out on the floor under L, soaking through the dark dress pants he wore and flooding from a wound in his thigh.

"Raito…you…!"

"_Gag him so he won't utter blasphemies in our Church"_ Rene commanded, still holding onto Raito to make it appear to his men that he was their hostage.

These inept morons! Raito swore, angered that they hadn't immediately killed L. Someone who could fire under pressure should have taken the first shot. What the hell were these idiots doing?

Gazing angrily down at L, the detective being gagged and held down, the death note forcefully taken away, and despite his cautious side warning him, Raito could not deny the sudden satisfaction that image brought on.

It wasn't just the fact that he knew he had won; no, there was more justice in watching, he realized, in witnessing L's downfall, for at this very moment, he was taking away something that never failed L; he was taking away the _one_ thing that would make L absolutely powerless…

He was taking away his ability to speak.

Raito smiled, all the while, keeping his head bowed, an acceptable amount of intermittent struggling against Rene thrown in to fool the cameras and his unaware pawns.

One of the braver subordinates was walking towards the helm of the group, arm suddenly extended and gun pressing right into L's forehead.

Raito could hear the hammer as it slowly cranked away, ready to set-off at any second.

The anxiety of this moment was gnawing away at his insides to the point where he felt sick.

_Shoot him. Hurry up and shoot him. For my pride and the justice of this new world -- _

**SHOOT HIM! **

Shots one after the other suddenly resounded throughout the Church and Raito felt his heart soaring, a second of total relief, until that triumph plummeted, collapsing on itself like the men closest to L.

Three of them – they hit the floor like sandbags, stiff and heavy; more blood than Raito had ever seen in his life flowing from the messy cavities in their skulls.

"_My god,"_ Rene said in disbelief before they all heard the sound of glass shattering and they watched another man fall before their eyes.

FUCK! Raito realized that Watari was reacting faster than expected and was sniping from somewhere closer to the Cathedral. From the trajectory of his shots, it seemed he was moving along the roof of the chapel adjacent to this one.

They _really_ needed to hurry the hell up and kill L before Watari found some way to get down here. Raito looked around at the pawns that were left, three in all, counting Rene behind him.

Hearing the sound of more glass shattering from above, Raito watched in horror as a canister was dropped into the Cathedral, a smoke screen suddenly lifting from it and blanketing them all.

It sent the rest of the men into panic and they began to shoot blindly at the ceiling, the smoke only thickening until no one could even see two feet in front of their face.

Pissed beyond belief, Raito broke away from Rene and hurried over to the spot where L had been left unsupervised --

But the only thing he was met with when he got there was a blood trail that disappeared into the smoke.

_Oh god…_

Raito felt panic leap into his chest, his mind flashing --

He broke out into a run, searching for the man that had died with the death note in his hands…

God if he knew L…

Raito stopped in front of the body and breathed out an immediate sigh of relief as he found the death note, the corpse still gripping onto it.

He heard Rene moving beside him, the priest walking ahead of him suddenly and bending over to take up the death note.

Raito narrowed his eyes and without even a second thought, he swiftly reached into the waistband of his slacks, pulled out the gun tucked away there and shot Rene two times in the back of the head.

Stepping over the body, he picked up the deathnote, and then dropped his gun haphazardly to make it look like self-defense gone wrong. He pulled out a handkerchief from inside his suit jacket and reaching into the deceased man's garments he retrieved his weapon.

Rene might be dead, but Raito would make sure he took the fall. He had planned to kill him from the very start, so really, what did it matter if it was sooner than later? The cameras were practically useless to him now that this smoke screen was up and he should have known better than to trust a bunch of incompetent fools to finish his job.

He would kill L _himself_.

Turning off the safety on the gun, Raito began to cautiously follow the convenient blood trail left for him. It led him all the way past the quire, towards the imposing mural of the Archangel's call to Battle, and right where the Bishop's throne was majestically displayed.

L was on the floor in front of it.

Raito's eyes widened as the smoke began to thin ahead of him, the outline of the detective becoming clearer and the scene unraveling in front of his eyes nightmarishly…

**A death note splayed open…**

…**his name written messily in red across one of its pages…!!!**

L's head hung limply forward; blood was soaking through the makeshift bandage he had created out of his gag and was seeping out onto the floor; his hands were smudged red, the finger that he had most likely used to write his name hanging over the page…

"You bastard…!" Raito cried out, aiming his gun in fury, and realizing too late that L had _somehow_ snuck the other death note out of the hotel this morning without anyone noticing.

At his exclamation, L slowly began to raise his head; Raito noticed that his stare was wavering, like he couldn't focus properly.

"I…knew it. I knew. I wasn't wrong…" he mumbled, sounding delirious from the blood loss. His head tipped forward and his stare suddenly grew wide and clear, like he was finally waking up from a dream.

"No…" L suddenly murmured, his index finger tapping the page under it. "You're not getting off_ so_ easily. I haven't written out your entire name – I only have to make the last stroke for the character _God_. But if you would like," he ground out, "I can always finish it and transform you into the real thing; there is probably a nice throne waiting for you down in Hell."

Raito stood deathly still; rage and terror compelling him to reaffirm his grip on the gun and snarl down at the other. "Do it and see how fast I put this bullet through your brain."

L tilted his head, eyes going wild as that threat dawned on him. "And you should realize that you have _no_ control over this situation; my nerves are very unsteady right now and unless you want me to kill you where you stand, please rest down your gun and give up."

Raito clenched his other hand, feeling his fingernails bite into the flesh of his palm. His eyes were clouding over from impossible anger and getting blurrier with every second that he watched this person defy him in every possible definition of the word.

He hated L.

There was never a moment in his life where he hated a person as much as he did L.

He was scared too, so scared. More scared than he had ever been in life. He didn't want to die; dying was the same thing as losing. He didn't want to die.

He wasn't ready to die! Not yet! – Not when his world was only beginning to take shape.

Mind racing faster than he could think, Raito felt overwhelmed by helplessness; his senses clawed out for anything in which he could cling to, anything that would save him from the dismal fate L's blood would spell out for him.

The flapping of wings breaking the air was that for him.

Raito could only watch, as Rem, white wings outstretched and like the miracle descending down in his ultimate time of need, lowered into the church and took her place at his side.

His eyes went wide with glee, his simper also restored to its former glory, and voice roaring deadly intent, Raito handed the shinigami his deathnote.

"Rem, kill this bastard now!"

Rem obediently took out her own deathnote, her writing utensil held between her fingers -- but unmoving.

Raito's smile faltered as the seconds went by and she continued to do nothing.

"What -- WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?! KILL HIM! You think he's just going to leave Misa alone! He'll execute her!"

Raito's voice went up a pitch. He was frantic for her to write L's name down, but he was even more desperate for her to write his own name in the two death notes.

**If writing the same name on more than two DEAtHNOtES is completed within a 0.06- second difference, it is regarded as simultaneous, the DEAtHNOtE will not take effect and the individual written will not die.**

If she saw L writing in his name, she was the _only_ one who could stop him. He needed her to stop him.

But Rem continued to do nothing, her gaze impartial to his shouting.

"And what about you?" she suddenly said, "You're going to use Misa and kill her too." The black slits in her eyes tapered even more. "Misa is not safe with you either."

L smiled directly in Raito's direction as the other gaped at the shinigami in frustration. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?! JUST KILL HIM!"

"Rem," L cut in and a screeching Raito turned furious eyes on the detective. "I would like to make a deal with you --"

"NO! REM, I ORDER YOU TO KILL HIM NOW! MISA CAN'T BE HAPPY WITHOUT ME. SHE'LL COMMIT SUICIDE IF I DIE!"

Rem seemed to seriously consider this, but her eyes were fastened on the detective, like she too was looking for hope within this bleak present.

"Speak, I would like to hear what you have to say," she ordered and Raito went absolutely batshit.

"YOU BACKSTABBING BITCH!"

"That's the way to negotiate with her," L said dryly, turning towards Rem. "I can see that you do not want Misa-san to die. I am certain that at the moment she has lost all her memories of the murder-notebook and the ability to kill without knowing the victim's name in advance."

"I can't fucking believe this," Raito interrupted and moved towards Rem. "Are you going to listen to this liar? He's going to kill her as soon as you give him the chance. C'mon Rem, think with your damn brain, or whatever the hell you have up there!"

"Misa-san," L cut in right back, "is Raito's pawn and he will force her into making the trade, for what reasons he does not make the trade himself I am unsure, but I can conclude that it is not good."

"The trade is half your lifespan," Rem told him, no longer holding back.

"Then that drastically changes things; Misa-san is in danger. If she has originally halved her life and Raito makes her trade with another shinigami, then Misa-san will only have a few more years left, if even…"

"Don't you see that he'll say anything to live!" Raito urged. "Sacrifice your life for Misa's benefit. I won't make her do the eye trade – there won't be any use for it if you kill L!"

L seemed to be considering his words. "Is it true that you will die if you kill me? If that is the case, then you can not be sure that Raito will not renege on his deal. On the other hand, if you put your trust in me and walk away, you will be alive to see me carry out my promise. I will not kill Misa-san, because I in turn do not want to be killed. I will also keep Raito's death a secret from her, and there are even methods to tampering with her memory so it will be _like they never met_."

"You can't be serious!" Raito shouted and tried to get Rem's attention, but it was too late, the shinigami had been caught hook, line, and sinker by the words _"…like they never met."_

"Misa-san will be as carefree as the day she was born" L negotiated, "and all you have to do is walk away and leave Raito-kun to me."

"No…" Raito seethed and couldn't believe this was happening to him.

Rem was expanding her wings, the two death notes that she held, now tucked away in her possession.

"You can't do this to me…"

She stared down at him.

"This is goodbye, Raito Yagami."

"NO!" he shouted, and Rem did not even glance back as she flew towards the colossal wheel-window in the ceiling, the vivid glasswork of the Fall of Man not impeding her flight any as she phased through it and disappeared in a flutter of white wings.

Abandoned, Raito stood there and stared at L staring back at him, the two of them locked in vision, neither backing down.

"Repent," L demanded, clutching his wound.

"Get down on your hands and knees and repent for all the atrocities you brought down on this world."

"LIKE HELL!" Raito shouted in rage. "If anyone here has anything to repent for it's you, you fucking hypocrite! I haven't done anything wrong!"

L's jaw went tense, his eyes wide and unsteady. "You have no intention of stopping and I have _absolutely_ no intention of letting you continue to murder. You will be punished, Raito Yagami, I will see to that myself."

"You're just like the rest of them L," Raito fired back, anger splintering him to the core, "Blind and stupid! This world isn't going to change by itself, someone has to take the responsibility, someone needs to make the sacrifices; I'm the only one who can save this world…"

Raito shook the tendrils of hair from his eyes, now gripping the gun with both hands.

"…And I'm going to do it. This world – you'll see," he said, voice becoming frighteningly optimistic, "you'll see L. If you just let me, I know I can change this world for the better. I can do_ so _much."

"Enough," L said and he had a pained look on his face as he gazed at Raito. "It's sad listening to you. Are you so far gone that you can't even see what's happening to you!"

He slammed his fist down and smeared blood in an arc across the floor.

"I…" he began and stopped when the eyes staring back at him registered no guilt, no understanding of the crimes he had committed; those eyes were so uncomprehending of all the horrible things he had done that it was like looking into the eyes of a child…

A very cruel child…

L gave up and looked to the ground. "I will _never_ forgive you," he said, the pain in his leg now unbearable, "You want to be a god so badly I'll crucify you in front of the whole damn world!"

"Then pick your bleeding corpse off the floor if you're going to threaten me!" Raito screamed back. "At the rate you're hemorrhaging I won't even have to pull the trigger to see you dead." He laughed right in his face, "so go ahead L, try to get up, remember that all this blood on the floor belongs to _you_. Not me! I'm not the one who's going to die a dog's death in this godforsaken church!"

"If I feel my end approaching,"L promised, "I will simply finish writing your name and be on my way."

The dark eyes watching him seemed to grow darker, but not dimmer; whatever it was that kept L from passing out seemed to be the same thing that was upturning the corners of his small mouth.

L smiled and held out a hand to him.

"**You won't let me love you when you're alive, so maybe the opposite will be true in death."**

Terrified at the disturbing proposal directed at him, Raito felt his feet backing away of their own accord.

A cold sweat had stuck his bangs to his forehead, the rapid palpitations in his chest, skipping every so often, made it hard to tell if he was having that heart attack that was almost imminent…

For a second Raito could not breath, assured that L had made that last stroke…

But there was a flash of shadow in the smoke, another kind of terror took hold of Raito as he realized too late that Watari was now behind him, catching him off guard and grabbing him by the gun hand and the throat.

He struggled fiercely, but the grip on his neck would not relent; it twisted his wrist and the gun fell to the floor clattering, an anguished cry ripping through the air as the older man continued to tighten the fingers on his throat, cutting off his air supply and slowly bringing him down, gently, almost sickeningly merciful, the vision of L, several feet away and finally passed out from the blood loss, getting blurrier…

And all Raito could do was scream and scream in agonizing defeat.

**

* * *

****A/n:** I hope this was an intense chapter, oh and you guys have probably guessed it by the cliffhanger but this is not over yet, far from it. Bwahahaha -- okay enough of that. I'm going on vacation very soon, so I might be late again with the next chapter, so I'm apologizing in advance. 

**1. Rene – **means "reborn"

**2. Ignatius – **means "born of fire"

**3. The passing bell –** wrung slowly when death is imminent within the parish, it's wrung as a reminder to pray for the person when they pass on. After the spirit has departed, the bell will toll out their age. Another interesting note, bells are seen as a safeguard against lighting and violent tempests and so they are wrung vigorously during storms, so it made sense that L went out looking for the sound of a bell during a storm…"The conditions are favorable today so you can't help but hear them."


	14. The Fall from Heaven

_Midway on our life's journey, __I found myself_

_In__ dark woods, the right road lost_

_-__Dante's Inferno, Canto I_

_

* * *

_"Watari…"

"Watari," he called again.

"I'm here," the familiar voice answered, taking his out-stretched hand in his.

L was instantly aware of the needles when he reached out.

It was a pinching sensation that ran under his skin and out into tubes filled with fluids clear and saline. There was also one magnanimous, red line winding down amongst them, down, down, as if its contents only destination was Hell.

"How long have I been out?" he asked.

"About two weeks."

L looked around him; he spotted a window, the curtains drawn back, but from where he lay, he could only see the roofs of some smaller buildings, between them the pieces of what he assumed was a meandering canal.

"Where am I?"

"St. Petersburg -- we stayed for a brief time at the Berlin facilities, but I thought before you woke up it would be best to relocate here."

"A large government presence is not what we need right now, so it was the best choice," L agreed, pushing the covers back and seeing the white bandages dressed across his leg.

"Where is _he_?"

"The first basement floor."

L rubbed his bed-matted hair. "And what of the task force?"

"I waited until you woke up to confirm what you would have me do about their situation."

L passed his hand over the bandages, but the only thing that registered the movement was his fingers, his leg numb and heavy with pain-killers.

"They are most likely in the same frenzy we left them in…and it's probably been assumed by now that the men involved with Father Rene attacked everyone who entered into that church after the smoke screen was put up.

"Were the cameras retrieved after we left?" he asked as the thought came to him.

"Yes, by Miss Wedy, but after looking them over, she reported that the smoke was so thick that nothing can be made out. She has remained in France to secretly keep tabs on the investigation team, while Mr. Aiber has long left for Japan. He is currently watching Misa Amane."

L was not shocked by this measure; it was perfunctory. Misa was the second Kira, and even though he had made a promise to Rem to not execute her, he had never said anything about leaving her alone.

It seemed that Misa had lost all her memories of being the second Kira, but during the Yotsuba case, she had exhibited suspicious behavior.

For one, how exactly did she get Higuchi to trust her enough to reveal that he was a Kira? The only way L could really see Higuchi believing her would be if she provided proof of her claims -- as in killing someone she promised she would.

Knowing what he knew now -- that shinigamis did actually exist -- it made sense to think that Rem, who seemed to be entirely devoted to Misa, would want to keep her out of trouble and thereby inform her of who the current Kira was. She must have informed Misa of her identity and then aided her afterwards in getting Higuchi to believe her.

It certainly made sense when remembering how contradicting she had been in her actions and her speech the night she had returned.

Misa knew she was the second Kira and that Raito was the first. She just had no memories of that time and she was waiting for Raito to give her instructions. Which would have been easy to accomplish, had Raito not still been handcuffed to him.

Despite the grief he had gotten from the rest of the task force for his delay in taking off the handcuffs, it had saved him the numerous excuses he would have had to create to accompany Raito on his treks to the lobby to speak to Amane.

It had never been his intention to split them up; he wanted _both _Raito and Misa under his watch at all times. That way he would be spared having to split his focus between two suspects. But he had also needed to appease the investigation team and reluctantly he'd made the decision to release Misa, the lesser evil.

He'd lied and told them that he would also release Raito soon; luckily the trip to France had diverted everyone's attention and Raito had been left chained to him.

And if he could, he would have handcuffed Misa to his other arm.

There was an unaccounted murder-notebook out there and a Kira that was self-aware of what she had been.

But the problem here was where exactly did Raito hide the murder-notebook intended for Misa? Obviously she would have to make the trade again, but with another shinigami because Rem was completely opposed to the idea.

_Raito's shinigami?_

Where was he? Was he guarding over that notebook?

Rem was devoted to Misa, but for some reason she'd stayed with them during the Lourdes case. Was she also guarding over the notebook he had confiscated?

No, there was the second meeting with the Father when he had not brought the notebook along and she had followed them to the Cathedral regardless…

So was it Raito she had to follow? Now that it was obvious that Raito had been Higuchi's killer that had to be the case.

Did that mean Rem was close by? It probably worked out better for her that way – she could keep an eye on both of them.

But seeing how she would be anxious to go back to Misa – bargaining chip, L's mind immediately determined. Rem would want her freedom and he would want information on where that other notebook was.

He would need to get in contact with Rem.

He needed to be very careful with the way he went about dealing with her. He didn't want her thinking he would break his promise and then have her prematurely kill him. Rem was fiercely protective of Misa…which brought him to his other concern…was Raito's shinigami the same?

L really hoped not, because he had enough problems dealing with one human being. He didn't need a god of death breathing down his neck as well.

"Have you considered what you would have me tell the task force?" Watari reminded, the older man now pouring something out of a silver pitcher and approaching the bed with a tray. He placed it down in front of L, who mechanically swallowed down the two capsules with a glass of water.

L peered down at the tubes in his arms, suddenly moving to pull one out, and Watari, seeing that he required help, sat in the bedside chair and reached for his arm.

"L?" Watari inquired as his silence resumed.

"Tell them…" L hesitated. "Please inform them that both Raito and I are dead."

"_He_ will ask about the body."

"Then give another excuse or cut communications altogether," L instructed quietly. "I cannot properly deal with their situation right now, nor can I give him his son back…dead or alive."

L yanked one of the tubes from his skin and tossed it to the side. "Yagami-san will try to kill himself," he said, gazing sullenly at the bloodied tip.

Watari bowed his head. "We can no longer interfere with his choices, but his colleagues will watch him closely. They will get him to Japan."

L silently grasped another tube, ready to jerk it from his flesh, but Watari gently took hold of his arm and carefully drew it out.

"Watari..."

"Yes?"

"Please transfer the money I had you set aside for each investigation team member. I understand," he muttered, "I understand that the money will never be enough to excuse what I took from Yagami-san…

"…but it is the only thing I can give."

Watari, nodding, rose from the chair, ready to follow orders, but the hasty fingers that had clamped onto his sleeve stopped him.

"What should I do?" L asked suddenly and for the first time in his life. "What do you think I should do?"

Watari stared at the younger man, unsettled by the expression that made him almost forget that L had grown up.

He sat back down in the chair.

"At first, I did not care who dealt out punishment. I would simply let the court systems handle everything once I caught him…

"But then" L said, "somewhere along the line I started to think I should take it upon myself. That when I did catch Kira, I would display him in front of the whole world for the murderer he was. I was even prepared to go so far as to allow his execution to be televised, so that all those who idolized him, who worshipped his way of doing things, they would see what awaited murderers."

L gripped his knees.

"But…I no longer have that option. I invested myself in this case to the point where I showed the task force members my face, I spoke to each of them every day, I learned about what kind of people they were and even about their families…

"If I were to show Raito's face on television, what would happen to Yagami-san? He would certainly kill himself for the shame alone, if the heartache does not crush him first; the media would go into a frenzy, his family would be tormented, no one would want to associate with them anymore…

"I did not think there was any need to ready myself for this moment. I did not think that his family or the people who knew him would matter. Once I unveiled him, what did anything else matter?"

L's hands trembled as his grip tightened.

"_He_ is a curse," he said bitterly, "a walking plight on humanity; everything he touches, everyone he comes into contact with, no one, no one is spared…

"And his family will be afflicted the worse. After all the grieving for their lost son, if I were to announce who Kira was, they would then have to grieve for a mass-murderer."

L shook his head. "I will not add shame to their grief. Living out the rest of their lives with the memory of a perfect son and brother should be theirs to keep, and despite it not being the truth, I will not rob them of that mercy."

Watari, ever silent, placed a hand on his shoulder, a gesture to reassure him in his decision; and L, collecting himself, looked to the door of the bedroom and began to turn his body towards it.

"I would like you to contact_ those_ two for me, as I can foresee that their services will be needed. I believe that would be the best course of action to take at the moment, but I still need some time to clear up some questions I have…"

L rested his feet tentatively on the carpet.

"I think things will become a bit clearer once I get to see him…"

* * *

_I am the way into the doleful city_

_Justice it was that moved my great Creator_

_Divine omnipotence created me_

_And highest wisdom joined with primal love_

_Before me nothing but eternal things were made_

_And I shall last eternally _

_Abandon every hope, all you who enter_

The bullet that had gone through his leg was a .32 caliber, relatively small, not hollow-tipped, and upon entry it did not fragment and cause further damage.

His femur bone was fractured, but the major artery connected to it had remained untouched, and to save his ability to walk, he now had a metal rod inserted into the cavity of the bone.

It would take six months or possibly longer to heal, so until then he would be confined to a wheel chair.

Turning the corner and finally coming upon his destination, L stopped and took a breath.

The room was large and sound-proofed, and within the center there was another room, 10x10, the walls all made out of metal-layered glass, highly reflective, and able to allow those looking in to not be seen by those looking out.

L opened the outer-door, and moving towards the pad-display on the inner-room's entrance, he pressed in an eight-digit numerical code and listened for the sound of the locks retracting.

L reached for the door handle, and taking another deep and slow breath, he went through...

And there... in the middle of this room and strapped to a chair was Raito; limb to his captor's limb, a black ribbon tied over his eyes, another of the same material restraining his mouth.

L felt the pain in his leg grow unbearable, but he pushed on regardless.

Raito, with ears free, had long discerned that someone was in here with him. L watched him futilely raise his head, those striking eyes hidden away, as well as the mouth that had ceaselessly lied to him.

Reaching out, L deftly plucked the knots of the blindfold away and watched the cloth slip to the floor, exposing pupils that immediately began to shrink away, as if the darkness they had drowned in for the past two weeks was drying up and leaving the real stare behind.

"Good morning, Kira."

L could hear the gasp half-concealed by the gag.

Raito was beginning to squirm under his restraints; L watched him struggle against every strap that tied him down to the chair, from the one fastened securely around his neck to the ones on each ankle.

"Mmph." Raito surged against his bonds, like a bird entangled in netting and brought back to Earth by powers other than itself.

"I told you I would give you a throne," L said and took that time to look Raito dead in the eyes.

"It has been some time since we've last seen each other," he started up conversationally, "and even though I have missed you very much," L continued, "I can honestly say right now that I am _not_ in the mood to hear you sweet talk me."

Leaning over in his wheelchair, L reached behind Raito and fastened the gag even tighter, and then sat back and studied him for a second.

"You look unhappy to see me, but I suppose you thought I was dead after not coming to visit for so long. Do not worry, I am much better now, and I plan to visit you _every_ day. I hope you look forward to that -- as I will be."

Raito's timely response was a glare that made his eyes burn brighter than melted gold.

"It is amazing that you can glare at me like that after all the things you've done. I suppose it is because you have no remorse. That is fine; compunction would have been very late in coming if it was just getting here, and I feel no pity for a monster like you."

L could hear the straps straining against Raito's unfurled vehemence.

"Struggle but I'm not letting you get away. I've been very lenient with you over this past year, I only now realize that my mistake was in treating you like a human being.

"A mistake that I plan on fixing," L punctuated. "I have many things that I would like to discuss with you, Raito-kun, especially in concerns to the murder-notebook that has yet to show up."

L paused and studied Raito intensely. "However, do not mistake my inquiries to suggest we can barter with each other. I have all the evidence I need to convict you and no one would disagree if I executed you right here and now.

"You die today or you die months from now – it makes no difference to me what path you choose to take. I do not need your cooperation, but I will warn you it would be best if you behaved yourself."

L's eyes began to roam around the room before halting on the discarded black ribbon, and careful of his injuries, he bent to the side, scooping up the ribbon and running his thumb over one end.

"My views on Justice, they have not changed since taking on this case. If anything," L told him, "I feel they have grown even stronger. I still believe that for Justice to be completely fair it must be blind," and moving over to Raito, L draped the ribbon over his eyes. "However, your blindness Raito-kun does not stem from fairness, but your own ignorance.

"You imagine yourself to be Judge of the entire human race…

"And for that, _Fair_ Lady Justice," L mocked, tightly knotting the ribbon behind his head, "you will remain here, voiceless and blind, the only thing for you to seduce – your own darkness."

* * *

L opened the door to the roof, but a spell of dizziness made him come to a complete stop.

He had a severe migraine all a sudden…but really was it a surprise? He'd lost a lot of blood, and transfusions and a short rest period could only do so much for him before his body started to complain.

Squeezing his eyes shut and pressing a hand against his temple, L tired to will it away.

There was a reason why he'd come up here and it was currently standing out in frigidness of a Russian winter. L felt his wound ache terribly as the cold beyond the door pressed itself inside the building.

"What do you want?" the imposing voice demanded.

L raised his head, composing himself. "I have a few things I would like to speak to you about."

Rem did not turn away from the navy and ashen skyline that was undoubtedly much more interesting than the person behind her. "I have no problem writing your name down in my notebook."

"Yes, I know," L replied and stayed in the shelter of the doorway.

"Then remember to keep your promise, _boy_," Rem warned.

L could hardly remember a time when anyone had called him boy, but for some reason he was far from offended. To a shinigami, who was infinitely older than him, the title was only appropriate.

L could also understand the shinigami's defensiveness around him.

"One of my men is currently watching her," he confessed. "But I know you would rather not leave something as important as Misa's safety in my hands. I suspect you would rather be there in person –"

"I do not enjoy being manipulated by a human and more specifically a mortal like you," she stated, continuing to stare out at the skyline. "You remind me too much of _him_ and that is going to work against you if you are trying to get me on your side."

L stopped what he was about to say.

"I apologize then if something about me puts you ill at ease; I am not comfortable with your presence either, since it would not take very much for you to kill me."

"No, it is not fear you show towards me," Rem accused. "Both of you never showed fear towards me – you only see opportunity, so if you are going to make a request do it."

L moved out of the doorway and into the blistering cold. "The second notebook," he started, "where is it? Where did Raito hide it?"

"I can not tell you that," she stated.

"So even gods of death have restrictions placed on them. That is unfortunate," L admitted, thinking that now he had no choice but to rely on Raito for answers.

However, he still had many things he would like to confirm with her before moving on with his plans.

"How would a Kira, who has lost his memory, go about retrieving it?" Because now that he was positive that Raito had lost his memories during the Yotsuba case, he needed to know how he'd gotten it back.

"To regain your memory you must touch a deathnote that you once owned; however, once you let go of it you will lose your memories again. To avoid this, you must regain ownership of the deathnote while holding onto it. Only then will you keep your memories."

"And you retrieve ownership by…killing someone with the notebook? Is that right?"

"Yes."

"Then what are all the ways you can lose ownership of the notebook?"

"If the owner dies, if the deathnote is destroyed, if the owner gives up his ownership, or if it is stolen from the owner and he fails to retrieve it before 490 human days have past."

L had planned to make Raito relinquish control of the murder-notebook and give Rem her freedom in exchange for information on the missing notebook. But if he were to do that, Raito would lose all his memories, and that was something that L needed to avoid at_ all_ costs. He wanted Raito completely aware of the kind of person he was, so that when he did finally pass judgment on him, Raito would understand the full extent of his crimes.

"Rem-san," L started up gravely, "I cannot give you your freedom from this place now that I have been informed about these rules. To close this case I need the location of that other notebook and it seems Raito is the only one that can give me this information."

However, this change in things also gave him the excuse to bring Misa here.

"I had intended to make Raito give up control of the notebook to you…but it seems that plan is no longer valid. You will be separated from Misa-san until I can retrieve the other notebook."

"Do what you must."

"Though, there is a way around it," L offered, "but you will be against it."

Rem slowly turned to face him, the cold stare she was giving him far icier than the chilling winds beating against them.

"I can arrange for Misa-san to be brought here. But of her own will, of course. I have yet to make good on my promise of erasing her memories," L bluffed, seeing as it was near impossible to do the kind of memory tampering that he had suggested.

However, the more he learned about the rules of the notebook, the more flexible the word "impossible" seemed.

"There is one more thing I would like to ask in concerns to the rules," L said. "I learned about this during the Yotsuba case and the way it was presented could have been a bit clearer if it did not come from shredded material, but…is it true that you can manipulate someone before their death if no one else is involved?"

"Yes, for 23 days," she answered tersely.

L, glancing at the shinigami, especially at the cloak-like wings adorning her back, wondered how he would bring up his next request so as to not offend Rem.

"You took the Father's deathnote – I would like it back please," he said bluntly, but as politely as he could manage. "It is an important piece of evidence." Practically the only solid evidence he had, so he would definitely like it back.

Rem stared at him strangely before reaching into her frock of scaly-feathers and pulling out the deathnote seemingly out of thin air.

"There is a good chance that this deathnote has a shinigami and that he is simply looking for his notebook," Rem informed him. "If you do have an intention to use this notebook on Raito, be aware that the shinigami will appear in front of you within 39 days of you receiving ownership."

L stared at the black notebook.

He had been very close to becoming the new owner two weeks ago, and he could definitely use that 23-day rule in order to obtain all the information he wanted from Raito.

But that kind of death…it seemed _too_ good for Raito. He wouldn't have to suffer at all, because he would lose his free will and not be conscious of what he was doing. He would practically be dead, a talking corpse.

He didn't want Raito to breeze through death as he did with life. He wanted him to be fully conscious of his actions, his words – that was the only way he could really hurt Raito, the only way to successfully punish him.

Raito did not need to be judged by devices that were otherworldly. No, he would be tried by human means. The problem with Raito was that he viewed himself outside this realm and L thought it was high time to drag him back to the real world.

L watched as Rem dropped the deathnote in the snow, and reaching down he picked it up and dusted off the cover.

* * *

"I can speak to them if you feel unwell," Watari offered as he watched L rub his wound, an unconscious grimace on his face.

"No," he refused, "I need to talk to them in person."

He understood how critical a moment this was. Bringing in outsiders was always something he tried to avoid, but he'd been breaking that rule for some time now, and for necessity's sake.

When Misa was brought here, Watari would be assigned to watch her and be at her services. He would also be passively trying to get information out of her, as that was the only way they could avoid angering Rem.

With Watari occupied, there was no one left to deal with Raito, who would more than require a constant presence around. And if he was going to torture Raito, at this point, Watari would be unsuitable for the job anyway.

He had been around Raito for far too long as a benign presence, one that served him food and actually had taken to him favorably with little gestures. Raito would not be frightened into admitting anything by Watari, and the latter, despite combat readiness, would have some trouble with Raito, as L needed persons who could easily overpower Raito and not by stealthy maneuvers.

L opened the bedroom door.

Showing his face was the first move in laying down a solid foundation between two distrustful parties. Anyone, no matter what their principles, would rather put their trust in a human being rather than a computer monitor, and for this to go well he needed their conviction.

The two men he hired were seated on the couch, and as soon as they caught sight of him, L could see a faint reaction at his appearance, one more than the other.

"I am L."

Mr. Tailor, as one of the men was aliased, rose from his seat.

And L immediately wished he hadn't, because this gentleman was 6' 3'' and it would be best if L didn't have to look directly up to discuss this case. The other man, Mr. Hunde, following in his partner's footsteps, also stood, which seeing that he was about the same height as Mr. Tailor, did not make L feel any better.

"Please have a seat," he told them as he came to a halt in the wheelchair.

"As my contact has all ready informed you, I have a job that I would like the both of you to consider. I will obviously pay you handsomely for any inconveniences that my short notice may be imparting." L tapped a few keys on the laptop placed on the coffee table, and then turned the screen in their direction so they could see what he was willing to transfer into a Swiss bank account for them.

"Will this amount be acceptable?"

Mr. Tailor raised an eyebrow.

"That price is negotiable, as you have yet to hear the details of your job--however," L closed the laptop to get their attention away from all the zeros, "I must have your answer now before I go into any specifics. If you do not take this job after I give out important information you can see what position that leaves me in. So it is, as you say, either all or nothing?"

Mr. Tailor nodded his head. "I can pretty much guess what you have lined up for us if this is the amount being offered. Your price is…well it certainly makes my answer almost seem repetitive." He glanced over at the laptop. "Count me in."

"And you, Mr. Hunde?" L asked, as these two were partners as much as mercenaries.

"It's…a lot of money; but I'm unsure if I feel comfortable accepting the terms as they are. I always get the fine print from any employer." Mr. Hunde rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "But since you are a very high priority client, I can maybe overlook it this once…

"I accept."

"Then we have an understanding," L concluded.

He did not ask them to follow, but they got the hint after watching his timely exit from the den.

Entering the elevator, L pressed the button for the first basement floor.

"It is no secret that I am working on the Kira case," L announced, "and since I have not continuously informed the public of my gains, it would seem that I have made no progress in my investigation."

L stared at the two men severely.

"Before we get down there, I would like to make something very clear.

"I am 100 percent positive that I have caught Kira. I did not hire you two to ascertain that fact for me. Collecting evidence, I believe, is the only way I could have caught him, and since your services are to an extreme, I would like you to understand that there is no chance that what you will be doing is based on weak proof."

L had to make that distinction. He had once instructed Watari to torture Misa, and he had said to do whatever it took to make her talk, but depriving her of water and questioning her had been the farthest they would go.

With Raito, however, it would be an entirely different story.

"However," the doors swished open, "Due to circumstances that I did not foresee I will need a confession, and by that I mean a very detailed record of how the offender went about with his crimes, from what he was feeling at the time he committed each act down to any micellaneous particulars that will further incriminate him. And as specifics go, I will also need to know where he hid a certain murder weapon, but for now that explanation should suffice," L finished, as they finally reached the room.

"So without further ado…" L moved towards the glass and pointed.

"I give you Kira."

Both men stopped in their tracks, and if their initial reactions to him, however minute, had been plainly visible, the affect Raito had on them was ridiculously blatant.

"What the hell?" Tailor muttered and moved his face closer to the glass.

Hunde, removing his dark shades, stared at the monitor to the side of him that displayed a front view of Raito seated in the chair.

"I expect you will read the dossiers on him, but it will not hurt to give you the basic information now." L placed a hand on the glass and stared at the figure on the other side, picturesque in all his deadly beauty.

"Raito Yagami: age, eighteen; nationality, Japanese; he has no previous convictions; his home situation is well-off; he has two parents and a sister, his father is the chief investigator for the NPA and has greatly aided me on this case.

"He was a senior in high school when he became Kira, and I only moved in on him when he began college; from there I personally observed him and he was able for about a year to elude me and continually commit his crimes under surveillance."

"You didn't tell us he was a..._child_," Hunde pointed out and ran a hand through his dark hair.

"Child or not, he is eighteen years old and that constitutes him as an adult that bears the full responsibility of his actions." L began to punch in his password. "If this goes against your principles then I apologize, but we have a contract."

L made a stay motion with his hand as he entered, and switched on the lights so the two outside were no longer visible through the glass. "Hello, Raito-kun" he greeted as he pulled up to him and removed the blindfold in one swift motion. "You look like you have acclimated yourself to your new home, but I will be moving you very soon so please do not get too comfortable."

Raito shifted in his restraints.

"You also look like you wish to tell me something," L said, reaching behind him, "But unlike earlier, I would actually like to hear what you have to say."

The two, watching behind the glass, expected to see him flip out now that the gag was lifted. However, Kira simply looked around the room, his eyes level and neutral.

He took a breath.

"Where am I?" he asked softly.

L tilted his head as if it were loosely connected to his body. "You are in any place I see fit to incarcerate you – you do not need to know the location."

"Where is the investigation team?"

L tilted his head the other way. "You ask some very peculiar questions when you should all ready know the answers to them."

"Why am I here?"

L gazed intensely at Raito. "Please do not play dumb, it does not suit you."

L assumed Raito knew he was being watched by eyes other than himself, and it was understandable that he did not want to further incriminate himself, but it was almost unbelievable how someone could just lie so out-rightly.

"You are here because you are Kira," he punctuated when he was met with silence. "With the amount of evidence I have against you, I do not think anyone could deny that."

"So where's my lawyer?" Raito asked cheekily and L looked at him as if he'd lost his mind.

"I would like to see a lawyer attempt to defend you in court."

"Then should I defend myself?" Raito confidently offered and looked down at his restraints. "I should at least be tried in my own country. You haven't even given me a proper indictment, so I have no idea what you're trying to accomplish here."

L scratched behind his head. A small smile was gracing his features, as if the detective was amused; but the way his eyes were stony and grave more correctly reflected how greatly troubled he was by all of this.

"Knowing what I know, you can still calmly lie to my face." L lowered his eyes. "But I expected as much, as owning up to your crimes and dying with some dignity is beyond a person like you."

"Say what you like," Raito dismissed, "it doesn't change the fact that _this_ is kidnapping."

L stopped himself from replying as it was stupid that he felt the need to defend himself. What did he need to defend?

"Arguing with you is not what I came here for," L clarified. "I actually came to give you one last try at redemption."

He leaned forward and gazed deeply into those unwavering eyes.

"When you have already committed the crime and have been caught, what else is there for you to hang on to? Give up, accept your punishment, and confess Raito. What sense is there in continuing to lie to me when I already know everything?"

Raito was sitting there so serenely that L could not help but feel immensely agitated. Those eyes were coolly picking him apart; L could almost hear the words Raito was mockingly repeating in his head, so expressed it was in those eyes that Raito didn't even have to move a muscle in his face to show L what he was thinking...

_Not everything..._

L frowned. "If I were you, I would accept my terms and cooperate."

Raito stared at him, those soft, russet-colored eyes glowing richly in the white enclosure.

_"Go fuck yourself."_

L twitched and his jaw went tense.

"Well…you've made yourself more than clear on what stance you'll be taking with me. I suppose I should do the same," L concluded and waved the two men inside.

Raito's expression was vacant, but his eyes were wholly absorbed on the two moving towards him, knowing exactly what they were here for. However, he did not seem to expect it when L, leaning over him, began tying the gag back into place.

_"_I do not see the point in rushing answers out of you. If you wish to be stubborn that is your problem."

Passing both men on his way to the door, L whispered something under his breath to them; he then walked out of the room without looking back.

* * *

**A/n:** I never noticed this before (blame my slowness), but when you turn the cover of the seventh volume upside down to see the picture of L right-side up, the seven is an L. Ohba, unplanned manga, my ass. We all know the truth.

**1.** The words Dante uttered before he makes his journey through the nine levels of Hell and learns about the different contrapasso (or just punishment) that the sinners in each level must face.

**2.** The inscription on the gate leading to Hell. "Divine Omnipotence, Highest Wisdom, and Primal Love are respectively the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Thus, the gate of Hell was created by the Trinity moved by Justice."


	15. The Devil that Smiles

_A beast approaches _

_Geryon_

_Face of an honest man_

_Body that ends in a scorpion's stinger_

* * *

He'd never physically fought with anyone before L.

School life for him had always been peaceful, and he understood why that was--why he had never drawn the attention of bullies, why he was so immune when the other guys around him were always getting picked on.

To him it was as basic a thing to comprehend as breathing.

Bullies never came after him, or even looked his way for that matter, simply because of how he carried himself: walk with your head held high, speak with only the appropriate amount of loudness, and always look everyone in the eye when doing so.

It was not difficult to tell a confident person from one who was insecure and could be easily manipulated. Then again, being bullied was as likely the vigilant search for someone weak to exploit, as it was the probability of selecting a target whose demeanor just happened to rub you the wrong way.

He could have very well been bullied in high school, but Raito doubted he would have had any trouble dealing with them. Fights between high-school students were hardly considered serious to him; Raito could deal with any blow he received from someone his own size, as his scuffles with L always ended in draws.

However, fighting off two grown men was a _completely_ different story, especially grown men whose job it was to torture hardened criminals-types on a regular basis. Only now did Raito see his error in calling the physical bouts between himself and L fights, because in contrast to what he had just endured…

He and L had just been playing around with each other.

The real thing…

**It hurt like all hell.**

Raito pressed a hand to the bruises on his stomach and winced.

**Those stupid bastards.**

He breathed in deeply, and the pain in his abdomen made him curl forward and close his eyes.

**How I wish I had a deathnote right now.**

Fighting the gravity that exhaustion threatened to pitch him in, Raito picked his head up and rested it back against the closest wall. He opened his eyes and stared ahead, and instantly scowled as he caught his reflection in the mirror-like wall across from him.

**I'd write all your names down…**

**...especially L's. I'd write your** **name down first.**

Raito lightly touched fingers to his cheek and the scowl only deepened as a familiar face glared back at him.

**Not even a scratch.**

They had beaten him until he couldn't even stand, and yet not one hit to the face. Raito squeezed his eyes shut in frustration.

**L, you high-and-mighty prick… **

He hated the fact that he instantly knew why L had ordered those men to not touch his face, and the knowledge of that burned him deeper than if those two _had _really laid into him.

**...treating me like some fucking trophy-piece…**

**...just so you can prove a point:**

Raito gnashed his teeth together, staring at the gag that was only removed after he'd had the crap kicked out of him.

**That I speak only when you allow me to.**

Raito resisted the urge to slam his fist into the wall behind him.

**But I know you won't kill me yet.**

**I still have something you want…**

**…and you won't leave me alone until you get it.**

**That's just the kind of person you are.**

**If things aren't going your way…**

**…you persist until they do.**

Raito ignored the screaming in his head, the frantic voice that spoke of hopelessness and of an inevitable death. If he started to think that way he'd only make his situation that much harder to deal with. He couldn't panic anymore; he'd done enough of that for the two weeks of absolute silence and darkness he'd endured.

He had to keep calm, had to always keep in mind that L wouldn't kill him unless he had reached some final resolution with this case. And the only way Raito could push L into going against this resolution, into abandoning his intent of finding the other deathnote, would be if he renounced his deathnote and lost all his memories.

**Then you'd kill me without a second thought…**

**…because I'd be completely useless.**

Raito took a deep breath.

He couldn't give up ownership of that deathnote – no matter what!

He had to remain aware of himself. It was the only way he could survive for now, and L knew that, knew he wouldn't give up his memories for anything because he wanted to live, wanted to have some control over the situation.

Giving up his memories at this point would be like committing suicide. He'd be as helpless as a lamb, and he'd suffer so much more for it, because he'd believe with all his might that he had done none of the things L would be accusing him of. He'd deny it to the bitter end, and then he'd die a miserable death, cursing the very existence of Kira, when in fact he was cursing himself.

This time he could not use a trick like that to shift the blame, because L _knew_ he was Kira; therefore he could not rely on L's meticulous way of doubting himself to create a loophole from which he could escape.

Raito bit into his lip.

Time. He needed time to figure out what his next move would be. He also needed to see L, as from now on the actions he took would be solely determined by what L did first. It was a sorry situation to be in, but it could not be helped. Raito wanted to get through this and he would do whatever it took.

**L, you can degrade me all you want…**

**…it doesn't change the fact that I'm not about to roll over and let you win.**

Raito stared directly at the camera imbedded in the ceiling.

**I can suffer for my cause…**

**…it only makes it that much nobler.**

Raito kept staring at the camera.

**I don't care what you do to me…**

**I still have my pride!**

_

* * *

__Two days later_

Looking through a window on the eastern side of the building, L could see the bridges off in the murky distance, each one severely bisecting against the pale sky--all iron-wrought monstrosities that rose out of the rivers and canals that snaked under them, and made St. Petersburg seem more ominous than one would have liked their mid-afternoon view to be.

"The young lady really does go along with anything once you mention _his_ name. But even a conman has problems dealing with that _much_ agreement."

"She is very different from Raito, and sometimes I do not know how to handle her," L said, glancing over at Aiber.

"Love that makes you drop everything and run away to a foreign country..." the detective looked down at his feet, "...I do not think I understand her at all."

"When I left her in the next room, she didn't even ask where I was going. I haven't heard a word of complaint out of her yet," Aiber reported.

"That is because she knows she is the second kira and that Raito is the first. She will remain compliant because she does not wish to make trouble for him.

"Despite her friendly disposition," L continued, "she will do whatever it takes to make Raito love her. She will lie and murder for him, and the fact that she has no problem giving up half her lifespan for that love, makes her that much more dangerous."

Aiber raised an eyebrow and strolled over to the center table, glancing at the laptop that displayed an inside view of the cell that Raito was currently being kept in.

"I'm surprised you hired those two…"

L turned away from the window and silently began making his way towards the door.

"Not that I blame you," Aiber said conversationally, "but I'm somewhat disappointed with myself, as I judged his character and yours completely wrong."

L halted as his fingers touched the cold brass knob. "Please go update Watari on the situation up here. He will be Misa's caretaker from now on and I have left your assignment with him."

"Russia's weather has never agreed with me, so I think I would like to get out of here as soon as possible." Aiber glanced back over at the screen. "I'm also not too keen on what's happening on your laptop," he replied with a grimace, and reaching out, he snapped it shut.

L continued to say nothing and quietly opened the door.

Misa was sitting on a white sofa and staring down at her hands when he entered, her hair worn down over her eyes like a flaxen veil.

"Ryuuzaki?"

L had immediately come to a stop when he caught her gaping. She then bounced up from the couch like she was made out of nothing but air and hurried over to him.

"Hello Misa-san."

"What happened to _you?!"_

L looked down at himself and then back at her.

"I fell," he said, moving past, "But it is not as serious as it looks."

"You look sick," she blurted out.

"Yes…" L scratched his head, "...I feel a little under the weather, but it --"

"Nobody's taking care of you?" she asked and looked around the room. "Where's Raito? Shouldn't he be chained to you? Did you two get in a fight again? Is that why --"

"Misa-san," L interrupted and pointed at the couch. "Please have a seat. I can only properly keep up with you when I'm not taking Pregabalin."

Misa stopped what she was about to say and then planted herself down on the couch.

L leaned forward in the wheelchair and poured himself a cup of tea. "I understand you have things you would like to ask me about in concerns to Raito-kun, but please bear in mind that both of you are under suspicion."

He would not confront Misa on the certainty that she was the second kira, because that decision was not his to make--it was up to Rem. He would only take things up from where he had left off in Japan.

"Huh?! Why do you still suspect us?" she demanded. "I thought you brought me here to see Raito! Where is he? I don't get why I can't see him?!"

L took a sip from his teacup and waited for Misa to stop.

Of course she suspected that he had done something to Raito, but suspect was the only thing she would be able to do, as he had no intention of letting her see it for herself.

"Misa-san," he said sternly, "please shut up, overreacting will not accomplish any --"

"Don't tell me to shut up! I have a right to know where my boyfriend is! I thought –" Misa paused and L felt only unease at the sudden change in her voice. "I thought everyone was okay with each other, after we all caught Higuchi. I thought -- but now Raito's not here and you won't tell me where he is." She sniffled, and L studied her carefully and hoped that the situation that appeared to be on the horizon could be averted with some words of support.

"Misa-san, do not cry; your eye make-up will run."

Instead of calming her down, his words seemed to do the exact opposite and Misa suddenly burst into tears. And as she continued to cry, L sat there and miserably sipped his tea, wishing that Watari would come relieve him from this soon.

Today was not one of the best days of his life, and for now, he simply wanted to go back into the other room and not speak to anyone for as long as he could manage.

Misa began to sob louder and L felt tired just watching her. He'd thought he had control over the situation, but with Misa crying hysterically and his input – or lack thereof -- not helping any, L could admit when he was soundly defeated.

Thankfully, a rap at the door saved him from having to hear Misa call him an idiot whilst crying.

"Mr. Hunde would like a word with you," Watari reported and L glanced over at Misa before sensibly moving towards the door; he was assured that Watari would be better at handling this than him -- actually he was quite assured that _any_ person would be better suited at handling this situation than he would be.

* * *

"A notebook?"

L slid his fork through a slice of black-forest cake, cutting it neatly in half.

"Yes, I thought I made myself perfectly clear, unless you need me to further emphasize on a point that I have repeatedly gone over in my notes."

"No, I just have a hard time believing that a notebook --"

"There really is no other way to explain the events that have been happening all over the world."

Mr. Hunde did not readily reply, choosing instead to wait before the words "and the shinigami?" left his mouth.

"She stays on the roof – her name is Rem and she does like me very much." L shoved the fork in his mouth and chewed nosily. "If you would like to meet her then I could arrange it, although I am hesitant to let anyone touch the notebook. But if you still need to see her I will understand."

L took another bite out of the cake. "How does Mr. Tailor feel about this?"

"He said with the amount you're paying us you could tell him that space aliens were behind all of this and he would still believe you."

L looked up from his exploration of the cake. "That is both troubling and refreshing to hear."

Mr. Hunde stared at L oddly. "Yes…well...at the moment, I'll be taking his stance; but in the future, I'd like to see some proof of this notebook and this Rem character, if that will not breach our contract."

"I can let you see Rem, and that should suffice. The murder-notebook will not be used as of right now to prove_ anything_."

Mr. Hunde nodded. "That's fine -- I might not be too sure of what to believe, but the amount of evidence you have stacked up against Kira…is impressive."

"No," L corrected, "I only have one hard piece of evidence against him – that notebook. The rest of the instances are not physical articles, so I will only view them as the foundation that brought me to this point, and I will view that notebook as the only substantial evidence.

"My second piece of evidence is where you two come in," L explained. "That confession will serve to finalize what I all ready know, as will the fact that he knows the location of the other notebook that has yet to show up.

"I am also planning ahead, as the forces we are dealing with," L said, pointing up at the ceiling and insinuating at the shinigami on the roof, "are unpredictable, and if it were to change its mind or Raito's shinigami were show up, I would at least have an admission of guilt from our suspect that I could send to an outside source to store for me."

"I have to tell you though," Hunde interrupted, "he's quite a handful, and you're not helping when you put limitations on what we usually start off with."

"Yes, I understand," L apologized, "but please bear with my requests. I have my reasons."

"But not hitting him in the face?"

L stared at the man. "When I go to speak to him it will just be more pleasant for me if there are no visible marks."

"I've never heard a client bring up that kind of concern before."

L knew how unreasonable and just how utterly strange it sounded, but it was the nature of the person he spoke to right now and possibly the company that he kept that made Mr. Hunde so reluctant to let his request go.

Hunde, as he was aliased, or a Mr. Emory Möller, was a physician who specialized in trauma surgery and Physiatry. He had a legitimate license, but he obviously practiced outside of his field, noting the work he did on a regular basis.

Hiring a person with knowledge of this kind was quite commonplace for this occupation. It was actually a cardinal rule of torture that the skill of the interrogator laid not in how much damage he could inflict, but in how much damage he could inflict while keeping his target alive and fully vocal. And skillful in this rule as he was cautious, Mr. Emory had once worked for the European Union's criminal intelligence agency as their lead "interrogator", while his partner, Tailor, or a Mr. Jacob Ward, was an ex-special forces member, who had been stationed in the Panzer Barracks and who'd served in one of the six Operational Detachment Alpha teams. He was combat proficient in various grappling martial arts, like judo and sambo, and had been called upon many times as an interrogator for US-military foreign occupations.

These two men were used to working fast and under their own counsel, and L was never going to be the type of person to sit back and relax when a case was in motion. So when concerns came up, there was bound to be some disagreement in how to handle it. But since he was paying them a ridiculous sum of money, he expected them to shut up and do as was told, though when hiring others things like that rarely went the way you wanted it to.

L leisurely plucked one of the cherries that dotted the sides of the cake. He noticed that Mr. Hunde was looking at his watch, and getting the hint, L took the cherry with him and began to move towards the door.

They were presently in a room adjacent to Raito's current cell, and after making the necessary relocation, L took his place in front of the two-way mirror. Unlike the last cell, this one had three solid walls and was a lot more spacious. It was also one floor lower.

"Tailor won't actually break his arm this early into things, but if he fights through that hold the wrong way he could very well sprain it." Mr. Hunde tapped on the glass to give his colleague a heads-up and then turned to L. "Although I doubt that boy would even try – he's passive, only reacts to break free when given the chance."

"Because it takes up less energy," L replied. "He's not going to burn himself out, and if he fights back, he knows he'll only get more hurt."

"That's why Tailor switched to hapkido – he doesn't plan to burn himself out either. Although we don't have to worry about that since we take shifts. It's the best way to deal with him."

L frowned slightly and turned to face the door. "Did you carefully read through the profile I gave you?"

Hunde nodded his head. "There were actually some things that I'd like you to confirm in concerns to that." Staring into the cell, the doctor asked, "That unmarked number under his birthday…what exactly would that be?"

"That would be his IQ, Mr. Hunde."

They stared at each other silently.

"And then the number under that?"

"An estimate of how many he's killed."

There was more silence.

L bit into his thumb and began to gnaw at the nail. "Are you a god-fearing man, Mr. Hunde?" he suddenly posed.

"No," the doctor answered, "and after reading through that, I see it makes absolutely no difference to _him_, seeing as how he practically took out two priests."

"Then I shouldn't have to warn you that he enjoys manipulating anyone that will give him even the slightest advantage. Please be aware of that every time you or Mr. Tailor walk into or out of that room."

"I'll be more than careful, but we shouldn't have anything to worry about, as he no longer has that notebook."

"Yes, the _immediate_ danger is gone," L said and bit into his thumb again. "But there is a reason why I keep him under 24/7 surveillance and I strap him down to any surface that will properly hold him."

"Right," Hunde agreed and watched Tailor stroll out of the cell.

"Your turn," the ex-soldier called out, hefting a thumb at the door.

"If you will excuse me then," Mr. Hunde said, but stopped when L rolled in front of him.

"I think I would like to speak to him before you begin."

"Then would you like us to tie him back to the chair?"

"No, it should be fine," L said. "I saw Mr. Tailor take the necessary precautions before exiting."

_

* * *

__Look at that great one who is coming_

_And seems not to shed a tear for pain_

_What royal aspect he still retains!_

_He is Jason…_

_With him goes whoso in such wise deceives_

_And let this suffice to know of the first valley_

_and__ of those that it holds in its fangs_

* * *

When L pulled up to Raito in his usual fashion, the brunette opened his eyes and practically sneered at the sight of him. He began pushing himself up from the floor, standing upright, like a doll come to life.

Raito took one step forward, but the fetter around his neck kept him leashed within a small radius.

"You know_ this_ isn't necessary," Raito growled, snatching at the chain for emphasis.

"You are a dangerous criminal that needs to be put in restraints at all times."

"Is treating me like some dog apart of my _detainment_ too?"

L quietly scoffed at the word "detainment".

"I'm treating you as I would any_ god_ of your caliber -- the kind that walks on all fours and bites the hand that feeds it."

Raito looked at him with such a vehement expression that L could hardly believe how anyone could possibly hide this kind of malice beneath a façade.

"I finally get to see what you look like under the smile, and I have to say…

…you really are something to behold."

Raito ignored him and paced to the other side of the room.

"I suppose only dead men have seen that expression, so I should count myself very lucky."

"Are you having fun taunting me?" Raito asked breezily and came to a halt.

"I am only doing to you what you've been doing to me for this entire case."

"And here I thought we were friends," Raito said, smiling exactly as he did the day L had said those very words to him, and L felt somewhat sick at how easily he could turn that expression on and off.

"Is this how you always treat anyone that tries to get close to you?" Raito continued. "Now I understand why you're _so _alone."

L felt his toes curl in of their own accord, and scratching the side of his arm rather gruffly, he replied, "and I think it is also a crying shame how being popular doesn't save you from developing a messiah complex."

Raito's gaze immediately flickered to the space that separated them, and L smiling that peculiar smile he had wisely retreated to a safter distance. "You started it," he retorted and stared absently at the wall. L then added impartially, as if they had not been fighting at all, "I actually promised those two men behind the glass that I would not be long, but there are so many things that I would like to speak to you about, or at least, see your reaction to.

"For instance," he begun, without giving Raito a break, "how desensitized do you have to be to kill a man and not show any emotion over it?"

Raito narrowed his eyes at him, and L felt that recurrent spark that he did not like to acknowledge whenever such a look was aimed at him. It was a feeling he could equate to staring death in the eyes and then simply having a conversation with it.

It was very unnerving.

"I watched you very closely _that _night -- and you understand exactly what night I am talking about. I recall the expression you had as you pretended to study, and it was so unremarkable, so unmoved. Looking at your face, I would have _never_ been able to determine the exact moment you ended someone's life, only by looking at your hand as it reached into that stupid bag of potato chips," L ended grumpily.

"I will not lie to you, at the time I doubted whether I was even dealing with a human being. I thought maybe I was being toyed with by some god, and I felt frustrated that that was even an option to consider.

"But I knew that couldn't be the answer," he continued, "and my only other conclusion was that Kira was indeed human, and that within the short time he had started, he was so far gone that turning a page in a book and killing someone brought out the same reaction from him."

L leaned forward and Raito stared cagily at him.

"How did you progress so quickly, Raito? From killing a _single_ murderer to more than a _hundred_ high-profile criminals within one week. How did you come to such a conclusion and so quickly?

"You were only seventeen at the time, attending high school, and at the top of your class no less. Everyday you would go to school, then cram school, and then you would walk back home.

"I know you weren't doing all those things because you felt pressured by your parents or anyone around you. Those were things _you_ wanted to do.

"You like to be the best, and you like to show the people around you how much better you are than them. And that egotistical personality of yours certainly must have helped in your transformation, but being proud does not necessarily mean that you are a mass-murder."

L quietly sat and waited for something, anything, but the silence between them only grew thicker.

"You were normal once, Raito -- how did you end up like this?" L stared at him and thought it was one thing to catch Raito, but it was something entirely else to understand him. Anomaly didn't even come close to describing this person and what lengths he had gone to put his ideals into effect.

To throw everything away in the blink of an eye, to toss an honest and comfortable -- and to sum it up -- perfect life to the wayside, and to then suddenly champion a cause that was so dangerous and so morally wrong that you were wanted by every national government, but pursued by none.

L was having significant doubts as to whether Raito Yagami was as perfectly sane as he had thought.

All signs really did seem to point to lunacy.

But if only things were as simply, L thought, and stared at Raito. If Raito were indeed insane, then at least L would have a concrete answer to explain all the horrible things he had done.

No. Raito wasn't insane. He was far too calculating and level-headed to be thought as such.

"From total normalcy," L said, sticking one index finger up, "to the extreme side of the criminal spectrum," and then the other pointer finger went up as well. "Your past self and your present self are like two completely different people – and yet you were able to transition so smoothly from one," L put his two index fingers together, "to the other.

"I could say that the power of that notebook was the thing that corrupted you. However, it does not have a conscience, it has no free will, it cannot help who its owner is, and in the end, it cannot influence that person.

"No, the real evil one here…" L concluded, "…is you, Raito. No one forced you to use it; no one forced you to kill innocent people. That was your choice."

L lingered to a stop, pondering on how indifferent Raito appeared to be right now.

"Maybe the only unfortunate aspect of this case was that you happened to be cursed with an abnormally resilient mentality. A person who's so psychologically numb, or can be whenever he chooses to be, like flipping on a light switch," L said, chewing pensively on his thumb.

"Of course, it's a result of your intelligence and the notion that you cannot be caught because of that intelligence that makes you this way, but even intelligence as much as it is a factor cannot stop a person from feeling certain things."

L let his thumb slip from his mouth.

"Like sadness or regret, even you must have felt something remotely close to this when you first realized you killed someone. Did it trouble you that you might have to kill your father one day if things did not go as planned? I know it must have, but the thing that bothers me most about this is that you would be troubled, but you would _still_ kill him. That makes you even more inhuman, Raito, because you know exactly what you're doing, in contrast to if you really were insane.

"Although, to be honest with you," L admitted, "I've only seen this kind of hardened nerve in psychopaths and crazed war veterans."

Raito's eyebrows bunched together, and he made a soft sound, like he was annoyed. "God, you're irritating. If you're going to continue on like this then please put me out of my misery and just bring in your hired-help."

L scratched the side of his calf. "It is not much fun for me when I throw conjectures around and they echo back at me without an answer. Plus I have never known you to keep quiet for anything. You were always quite the chatter-box," L said, one hand suddenly mimicking the motions of a mouth. "Is your silence a sign that you acknowledge your guilt?"

"Who exactly is the chatter-box here?" Raito replied tartly. "If you want me to speak so badly then how about we talk about something that I can at least understand?"

L rubbed his head. "And what would that be?"

"How about how much of a head-case you are."

"That conversation will not be a very long one," L stated and touched his finger to a top lip that was suddenly curving upward. "I would rather talk about the expression you had on your face when I called you out on that Kanto broadcast. I bet it was not a pleasant one."

"Keep talking," Raito snapped, "because it's the only thing you've ever been able to do to me."

"Not the only thing I've ever been able to do to you, Raito-kun," L said and smiled.

"Do you really want to bring that up now?" Raito asked and nodded over at two-way mirror, "Because it doesn't really reflect you at your _most_ professional – not that that says much."

L titled to his right. "I have nothing to hide."

Raito smirked at that. "So it's totally fine to say you slept with me, your prime suspect, not once, but for practically two months?"

L tilted to the left. "It is the truth, so I will not deny my actions."

Raito rolled his eyes. "But knowing you, you must have conveniently left that part out in whatever record you've kept of this case."

L did not say anything, and Raito chuckled. "Did you grow forgetful all of sudden? That's not like you at all."

L tapped a finger on his knee. "My apologies Raito-kun, I am sorry that I did not know what a conniving little jezebel you were."

"Conniving? All I did was open my heart to you."

"It wasn't your heart you opened," L muttered before he could stop himself. He was past irritated with how this was going, and he was even more irritated that he was letting it happen in front of the two men he had hired.

"What's the difference? You enjoyed it."

L stared vexingly at the wall behind Raito.

"Are you miffed at me because you think I faked it?

"Don't worry," Raito said, continuing to provoke him, "I really did enjoy fucking you."

There was a limit to how much of Raito's crap he could handle in one session.

"For the _Great Detective_ who's so exacting about his reputation, you sure don't mind falling on your back for --"

L turned in his wheelchair and headed out of the room before he could be insulted anymore. But unfortunately for him there were people waiting outside, ready to greet him, particularly Tailor with his mouth open.

"I'm not in a good mood right now, so we can have this conversation later," L said curtly before whatever question was about to come flying out at him. He abruptly turned towards the door that would let him out of the surveillance area and then --

"Oh," L looked up, as if he were forgetting something, and then turned in the doctor's direction.

"I am giving you permission to hit him in the face now."

* * *

**1.** In Canto XVI of Dante's Inferno, Dante and Virgil ride Geryon to descend into the Eighth Circle of Hell.

**2.** Geryon – "…in classical myth, he is a 3-bodied giant who ruled Spain and was slain by Hercules. In the Inferno, he is the personification of Fraud, a giant with 'the face of an honest man and a body that ends in a scorpion's stinger'".

**3.** The Eighth Circle of Hell punishes those guilty of Conscious fraud or treachery. This circle is made up of ten stone ravines called "malebolge" (Evil pockets), and across each ditch is an arching bridge. I chose St. Petersburg, Russia as the setting for this arc because it's also known as the "City of 300 bridges." Not to mention it's as cold as a witch's tit and I believe this perfectly reflects the last stage of Dante's Hell.

**4.** The first ravine of the Eighth Circle is where the Seducers and Panderers are kept. They are made to walk in opposite directions while demons whip them.

**5.** Jason was a mythical Greek hero who assembled a group together (the Argonauts) to search for the Golden Fleece. Within the eighth circle he is seen as the worst of the seducers because he accepts the aid of a witch named Medea to help him attain the Fleece, but when it is finally secured, he casts her aside to marry Creusa, daughter of the King of Corinth.


	16. The Whited Sepulcher

_We went along with the ten demons_

_Ah, the fell company!_

_But in the church with saints, and in the tavern with gluttons._

_Ever on the pitch was I intent,_

_To see every aspect of the pit,_

_and__ of the people that were burning in it._

_39 __days__ later_

"I'll ask again, are you Kira?"

Raito's head fell forward and Tailor tipped it back for him.

"C'mon, none of that; you can sleep _after_ you answer my question."

"I'm not Kira. How many times do I have to say it?" Raito snapped.

"Until you get it right," Tailor answered and grabbed him roughly by the chin when his eyes began to flutter close. "And if you do that again," he warned, indicating Raito's problem of staying awake, "I'm going to get angry."

They had started depriving him of sleep three weeks ago, and combined with the periods of starvation and beatings, it was no surprise he was more unconscious than awake most times.

"I'm not Kira," Raito weakly responded, head again sagging forward despite the multiple threats warning him against that very thing. He then went onto fall fast asleep, leaving Tailor to stare at the top of his brunette head.

With the tip of his boot Tailor kicked the chair that Raito was seated in. "Wake up, princess," he groused, but to no avail Raito kept on sleeping. "Man, you sure can sleep through anything." Nudging the chair again and scratching his dirty blond hair when he was not even met with a flinch, Tailor circled around to Raito's other side. He brusquely grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt, and hauling him out of the chair by that hold, he tossed him to the floor.

Raito did not immediately move, but after a few seconds passed he began to rise.

"Are you Kira yet?"

Tailor rested a polished black boot on Raito's shoulder and pressed down.

"Not the last time I checked," Raito answered sarcastically, and for all his trouble, Tailor shoved him back down to the floor with his foot.

Raito tried to get up again, but a hand planted on his skull stopped him.

"Last chance, Princess."

"Like I know what you're talking about. I told you already, I'm not Kira. Are you deaf?!"

"Kind of. In my right ear," Tailor said, grabbing him by the hair as if it was nothing and suddenly dragging him towards the door by that hold.

Raito went wide-eyed and again tried to stand, but Tailor wrenched him back down to the floor by the hair. The door to the cell opened, and out came the ex-soldier, dragging a struggling Raito by the hair to meet his puzzled partner.

"What are you doing?" the doctor asked, and glanced down at the boy who was now panicking and trying with all his might to extricate the hand twisted in his hair.

"Taking him for a swim," Tailor said conversationally, his face completely unaffected as Raito dug his fingernails into his hand.

"He's going to get mad at you for taking him out of the cell without asking permission."

"Won't be the first time," Tailor retorted. "And anyway, he's been falling asleep all through my interrogation, so this should wake him right up." The ex-soldier grinned down at Raito. "Our _hime-sama_ is like a cat: he hates getting wet."

"Let go of me, you psycho!" Raito shouted and fought even harder to get free.

"Do you need some help?" Hunde asked, noting how unusually energetic the boy was today.

"Nope, but you can go get me something to eat. I think I'll have my lunch in front of him today," and with that exchange finished, Tailor resumed dragging Raito by his hair down the hallway, one-handed and leisurely, like he had all the time in the world.

Raito was dragged to a place that he clearly remembered, the cold feel of the tiles and the staggering smell of bleach hitting him hard as he was pulled from the gray corridor and into an almost burning whiteness.

Practically two months of moth-colored rooms and Raito was hardly touched by the monotony, but the shower-room, no matter how many times he was forced into this place, it was always a fresh terror for him.

And the worse part of it all was what awaited him at the other end of the stark room. Raito stared at the bathtub filled to the brim, and what was normally such an innocuous sight at home, here, was transformed into a watery marble casket.

"Damn, you really hate this," Tailor quipped as Raito's struggling only intensified with each step closer.

"That's good to know."

Raito only had a split second to hold his breath before his head was shoved under water, the sound of his eardrums filling up so loud that it felt like his head was caving in. He was yanked up by the collar almost as quickly, but he knew his time under water was only going to gradually increase.

"From the last time you were here, I can understand why you wouldn't be too thrilled to come back."

Tailor shoved his head right back under and that awful noiseless throb assailed his ears again.

Close to a minute passed and he was finally brought back up.

"People can get used to the beatings, but they never seem to get used to the sensation of drowning," the ex-soldier carried on, "especially when a good percentage of the water they're drowning in is mixed with iodine."

Raito blinked; with the air hitting his skin, he could only now feel the sting in his eyes and nose.

"Those cuts on your face must smart right now, especially that one on your lip. Well, at least you can't say it'll get infected or anything like that, huh?" Tailor casually pushed his head into the water and held it down until Raito thought he was at his limit.

However, the interrogator was extraordinarily precise when it came to human boundaries and how much a person could handle. Coughing, Raito tried to get away as he was yanked up again, but Tailor held him down by the nape, pressing the side of his cheek against the cold rim of the bathtub.

"Let…let me go," Raito gasped, throat feeling like it was on fire.

"No way," Tailor said, and tightened the other grip he had on Raito's hair. "You should see the money that guy is paying us just to work you over. I mean, I would do it for half or even a quarter of that, but I guess when you're loaded monies nothing. Surprising too, seeing how he's just a kid like you. Man, what happened to this generation? Too much violent television programs, I suppose," Tailor said and shoved Raito's head under water again, bringing him up only after the expiration of two minutes.

"No more…" Raito implored, trying to breathe and not choke at the same time.

"But wow, what a curve ball," Tailor continued, as if Raito had never said anything, "I wasn't expecting Kira to be so frail-looking, you know? I expected someone…like me or my partner, not some guy who looks like he just got off a boy-band tour bus."

Raito felt like giving up. He really did, the words were right on the tip of his tongue…

"Though, I bet the girls are crazy for you, and eh, apparently so are the guys," Tailor goaded. "I don't really got nothing against _you_ people, and I'm trying really hard not to look too deep into what's going on between you and my current boss, but a word of advice," Tailor hung his head directly over the water so a pair of russet-colored eyes were staring right back at him, "don't go after a guy who knows how to get in contact with people like me in the first place. Should be a general rule, you know, when you find convicts on his speed-dial," Tailor said.

He grinned. "Or can Kira not tell that he's being cross-examined by two convicts with government connections?"

Raito closed his eyes and felt like throwing up.

"That must really piss you off to know that, but then again that's half of my job, _sweet-__heart_."

Bringing him to his feet by the hold on his nape, Tailor unceremoniously ushered him into the tub, forcefully submerging his body and then his head under water, like some kind of perverse baptism.

Raito felt that overwhelming terror that only crept up on you when directly faced with death; he felt it, yet, he had no way of fighting against it.

**

* * *

**_"Raito-kun…"_

_He swept a hand over __his __bare back and there was a moment of silence before, "mmh?"_

_"Can we talk?"_

_"Huh?" Raito asked, sounding more awake as he rolled over on his side. "I thought you'd be way__ too tired to start anything?" __He smirked and ran a hand casually through his hair. "E__ven though I was the one who did all the work."_

_L sat up __and rubbed his back. "As I give you the chance to relax, I think I'm entitled to the same benefits."_

_"Is that what you're calling it now? And here I thought I had you right where I wanted you." __He__ stretched and drew the covers back. __"__Or are you misleading me?__"_

_"I've __been called a liar on many occasions."_

_"By who?"_

_Leaning__ forward Raito gently closed the drawer on his side of the__ bed, and as he did so, __the full expanse of his bac__k__ came into plain view. _

_"I suppose myself, but do not take the word of a liar,"__ L__ answered __with a smile._

_Raito chuck__led. "__If you're a Cretan then I'll never figure you out." __He turned his head in profile; something appeared to catch his attention among the white sheets, and with an easy motion of the hand, Raito brushed a condom wrapper to the floor._

_He got up from his side of the bed and began pulling on a pair of boxers._

_He then glanced back at L._

_"You look like you want to tell me something?"_

_"Ah, I was wondering... there should be a patisserie somewhere around here. We should go look for one after you dress."_

_"And__ then__ what happens when you start casually walking out the door and everyone suddenly wants to know where you're going? You can't just decide to walk off like that __when everyone has __work__ to do."_

_"They will understand__."_

_Taking a seat __next to him__, Raito reached __out __and swept some hair from his face. "I guess when you're L you can practically do anything and get away with it. It must be nice getting everything you want."_

_"Not everything, t__here's one thing__ that__ I want but how hard I try, __I don't think I can ever get it.__"_

_"Are you talking about Kira? You shouldn't be so quick to get depressed ove__r an incorrect inference or two -- __and you know__ how much that insults me__ when you talk like that. At least __pretend you're __happy that I'm innocent."_

_L brushed Raito's hand aside. "For some reason, we aren't on the same wave-length today. I thought Raito-kun would understand, but it might be that my intentions are not as pure or developed to a point where things can be clear. Maybe I should try to explain this again when I have matured a bit."_

_Raito blinked. "Where'd that come from?"_

_"It's nothing. I'm simply overanalyzing myself. This is naturally a confusing time for me, so I tend to feel backed into a corner. If over the next few days I say something that upsets you, please do not be angry with me."_

_"Then don't say it," __Raito immediately answered.__ "I can't get mad at you if you don't make me that way. But if we do fight we'll just make back up again, right? There's no harm in having spats once in a while. You don't expect things to always be peaceful__ between us. If__ anything," Raito smirked, "I think you deliberately start fights with me just so we can have make-up sex afterwards."_

_"Ah…you have caught me," L said with a __blatant__ly__ guilty__ look. "When we are intimate after an argument takes place, I have astutely noticed that Raito-kun is especially frisky."_

_"I'm going in the __next__ room now,"__ Raito dryly responded, pulling on jeans that he found on L's side of the bed and buttoning up his shirt. "Everyone might be fine with it, but my dad will still want to know where I'm going, so while I'm talking to him, h__ow about __you take your skinny butt to the shower and get dressed__."_

_"__I enjoy the pet__ names Raito-kun has for me. They are endearing."_

_"Skinny-ass is endearing to you? __No wonder you're __so__ in the dark when we're having argument__s."_

_Bending over him __Raito__ lightly kissed L__ on the mouth__ and gave the detective a few mollifying pats on the shoulder. "Meet me in front of my father's room when you're done," he __told him and __walked __over to the door._

_"Oh, and L," Raito called back with a disapproving tone._

_"__Yes, my __non-judgmental and __moderately __volatile__ cactus-flower?"_

_"T__his time__ don't just change into clothes and pretend you showered."_

_"__I have been found out," L stated. _

_"__Yeah, and __I don't care how__ lazy you are, take an actual shower and n__ot an imaginary one," Raito __criticized_

_"Also standing under the shower-head for three seconds doesn't count,"__ he__ continued __as he shut__ the door behind him. "I have no idea who told you that was okay, __but it's not__. Three-seconds might work for dropped food, but not hygiene,"__and even through the door, his voice could still be heard.__ "I thought going out with an older man was supposed to broaden __your horizons. Someone needs to inform that __reader's__ poll in 'Eighteen' that __its __subscribers are misleading."_

**……………………...**

L raised his head from his desk and rubbed his eyes, and his elbow in passing contacted with the handle of a nearby tea cup, the white dishware wobbling, but coming to a stop when he rested his palm gently over the rim.

He had dozed for about four hours if the red-stick letters on the digital clock across from him were accurate. L rubbed his eyes again and hit a key on his laptop to remove the screen-saver.

He'd been looking in on Raito's interrogation when he had fallen asleep, so it wasn't far-fetched to think that his dream had been a result of that.

But could he really call that a dream? It had happened; they had talked like that once after sleeping together. Looking back on it now, it was hard to believe that not even three months had passed since that time.

Yes, not quite three months ago Raito had been so different...

Of course, his existing flaws had always been there for anyone looking hard enough.

He was a bit spoiled and way too dramatic when things didn't go his way. He was also bossy, and controlling, and took himself too seriously sometimes; and he was careful about it at the time, but he still came off as the most egotistical person L had ever met.

Raito was so flawed; and yet, L knew there was never going to be a person he liked more or thought more of than Raito Yagami. He knew that for a fact, because despite his patience, he would never sit through the marathon of lectures he could get from Raito if he weren't absolutely mesmerized by the person giving them.

Regardless of his warped personality (and that would have to be a pretty big regardless in order to look the other way), there were things about him that made his flaws almost bearable. Like the fact that he was very considerate: he noticed small things that no one else would, picked up things about people that he would use to make them comfortable in his presence. He might have used that charisma for the wrong purposes, but L had more fun playing House with Raito than he really should have allowed himself to.

There was a list of phantom good traits that Raito possessed, like kindness and friendliness. But did he only have these qualities when he needed them, was the question. Naturally left to himself, was he a kind and friendly person? Maybe not to the degree he portrayed himself out to be, but somewhere down the line he must have felt something for people, however warped he was in showing that compassion.

Then there were the definite things L knew, like how intelligent or sincere Raito was about certain things. He was confident and sensible and competitive, and that might be a bad thing for all the trouble it caused, but if that were the case then L would also have to censure some things about himself.

Raito was also so eloquent; he got things that L didn't about other people, and with a few sensible phrases he was able to bridge the gap between them.

L had never been very good at talking to people outside of an explanation, so when he found that certain trait in a person, he was very impressed by it.

People trusted Raito; they liked him because he always knew what and what not to say. He didn't unintentionally hurt their feelings, or make them feel isolated, or mistrusted.

And it all might have been a terrible lie used to mask his selfishness, and it all might utterly break your heart in the end, but at least it was something to hang onto, L thought.

* * *

_There below we found a painted people…_

_Weeping_

_And in their semblance weary and vanquished._

_They had cloaks,_

_With hoods lowered before their eyes_

_Outwardly they are gilded,_

_So that it dazzles,_

_But within all lead…_

**……………………..**

He was lying in the corner farthest from the door when L came in, swathed in a white strait-jacket, pallor making him appear more dead than alive, and causing L to hesitate instead of instantly moving forward in his wheelchair.

It had been a month since he had stopped limping in here and had gotten over relying on something other than his legs. But that did not mean he enjoyed having Raito see him this way, and that he, in turn, enjoyed to see how broken Raito had become.

Turning the handrims on the wheelchair, L stiffly resumed forward and halted a few inches from Raito.

There were a few scratches under his jaw, a large bruise on his cheek, and a cut on his bottom-lip that looked like he'd been worrying it between his teeth.

L supposed the_ real_ damage lay not on his face, but under the strait-jacket and the layer of flimsy clothing he wore; and by the way Raito was lying on his side, rigidly, with a hand subconsciously guarding his stomach, it was obvious where the majority of his injuries lay.

Watching him sleep for another minute or two, L found himself particularly staring at the cut on Raito's bottom lip, red from probably a punch that had caught him wrong and ended up re-opening it.

Running his thumb absently over his own bottom lip, L continued to stare at it with no particular reason in mind, until his hand, appearing to have a will of its own, reached out impulsively towards Raito's face.

_"Don't touch me."_

At the clipped measure of his voice, L's hand immediately halted. He noticed that Raito was icily watching him through the dense locks shadowing his eyes, and withdrawing the hand that had offended the brunette, L rested it innocently on his knee.

"I'm only checking your injuries; you have no need to get so defensive with me."

Raito did not say anything, but as L sat there, he could feel his eyes calmly roaming over his face.

Unlike him, whenever Raito watched people he did not have a tendency to openly stare at them. But when he did choose to, L could not help but always think how intimidating it was. His eyes were so subtle; they moved as L would have described a snake observing its prey: almost frigidly motionless so as to seem harmless, but in reality aware of everything that flitted past them.

This was the stare of someone that had dreamed of becoming a god and had been closer to obtaining his ideal than any other human being in existence. If L wasn't so intensely fascinated with Raito, he would have thought twice about sitting so close to him.

He wasn't necessarily frightened of Raito, but he was the only person who had ever posed a threat to him. Of course, he had more enemies than even he could flush out, but Raito had actually gone after him, toyed with him a bit, watched him flounder for evidence, and then using his own knowledge against him, was able to manipulate him right into a scenario that would permanently take him out of the picture.

If Watari had arrived a second later, L had no doubt he would have died that day, shot point-blank by a gun and by a person that would in turn be used as he was and then discarded.

No, L wasn't scared of Raito, but it was only natural to feel unease in front of someone who had come so close to killing you.

"You wanted to see me?" L asked, getting to the point of his visit. He was no longer prone to daily basis visits, as their arguments were usually so bad that a few days were necessary for things to calm back down betweem them. L could admit that he was taking out his frustrations on Raito, but he only thought it was fair, as Raito appeared to have no problem returning the verbal abuse, and with interest.

And being as mentally sensitive as a cement block come most days, L could handle himself against the insults; although, it did not stop him from thinking that there was a high likelihood that Raito could make a grown man cry with that mouth of his.

"You wouldn't demand an audience with a person you despised, unless it was important."

Raito began to sit up. "Then it's pretty obvious what I'm about to say."

"No, I'll only consider it obvious when you _actually_ say it," he clarified, staring at him with an unflinching focus, one that Raito had no problem mimicking as he calmly studied him in return.

"Then I'll agree with you that it's obvious that I'm Kira."

L flinched despite this already being an established fact with him; from the corner of his eye he could clearly make out the camera to his right, fully functioning and in no way obstructed.

"I do not enjoy how you approached me with this," L admitted, meanwhile gazing around the room openly and stopping on each camera that he had yet to visually check. "You're going to get the death penalty and your decision to talk now will not change that."

"Obviously," Raito snapped. "I'm not doing this because I think you'll grow a heart all of sudden, Mr. Scarecrow."

"Raito," L said in a warning tone before he could stop himself, "If you are unwisely planning something behind my back, I will send you to the electric chair without another word. My priority is always neutralizing the threat that your continued existence poses to me and everyone around you, not in attaining the location of that notebook. Do not give me a reason to send you to your grave earlier than intended."

"And you're always calling_ me_ the scary one," Raito pointed out and rested his head back against the wall. "I'm getting really sick of this place and _you_, and the only reason why I'm being so accommodating right now is because I can't take this crap anymore, so if you're going to be paranoid listen to my side and then do whatever the hell you want."

"You would have instantly told me the location of the notebook if you really felt that way," L said.

Raito narrowed his eyes at him. "I never said anything about that so stop getting ahead of yourself. I'm merely sick of being starved to death, so in exchange for a little honesty, bring me something to eat."

It was understandable that Raito was at his limit and that he wanted something to eat. It was also understandable that to assure he would not be turned down from his demands, Raito was willing to talk to him and give him something in return. But that was as far as any honesty between them would go, because Raito would never willingly reveal the location of the murder-notebook to him. That was the only string of information keeping him alive at this point and he would hang onto it like a lifeline.

"I specifically remember explaining to you that we do not have a bartering system set up between us," L pronounced.

"Then make one up," Raito concluded. "I've said I'm Kira, but I haven't given you the lengthy, _sobbing _confession that I know you want; neither have I given you any convincing dialogue on my part that I am, in fact, Kira. Any person, under the right circumstances, can confess to a crime. There's the obvious fallacy that comes with torture as a method of information-extraction.

"You know that, I know that, every single policing agent throughout the world knows it. So unless you want me to give you a _proper_ confession, you'll go get me something to eat now."

L felt irritated despite this being the scenario he wanted.

He knew that he would_ eventually_ drag a confession out of Raito, but despite being at his limit as he was plainly suggesting, Raito would find some way to continue being stubborn if L denied him food.

L did not like to be kept waiting, but it was obvious that he would be met with resistance when he refused to use more aggressive tactics on Raito. If he had _really_ wanted to get information at any cost, he would have allowed Tailor to start slicing off fingers and other body-parts like the other man had suggested.

Raito would have talked then, but something about that did not sit too well with him. L might have grown bitter towards Raito, but he still had his own humanity to consider and protect. He would break Raito on his own terms.

But right now, he was not in the mood to wait any longer for his answers. Raito, despite the attitude he was copping with him at the moment, would be much more agreeable when given what he wanted.

L glanced over at the two-way mirror.

If he did this, he would be throwing weeks' worth of work back in the faces of the two men he had hired. They would surely be pissed at him if he said yes to Raito. Trust in business matters was a hard thing to come by despite money's influence, and he had already given them enough to question when he had let them overhear his private matters with Raito.

But then again, L had never made it a habit to deny himself of anything he particularly wanted, especially when it came to Raito.

"Do as he says," L said to the camera across from him. He waited to hear the tap against the two-way mirror, a sign of agreement that the men on the other side of the room acknowledged what he was about to do.

It came after a minute.

L did not say anything and kept his eyes on Raito, who had begun to shift away from the wall, attempting to get the buckles on the straitjacket to give a little by putting most of his weight forward.

"Take this thing off of me," he suddenly insisted, struggling to get free.

"And why would I do that?"

"Because I can't properly eat like this." Raito struggled some more, but stopped when L continued to passively stare at him. "Do you need another invitation?"

It was amazing how months could pass under unlivable conditions and Raito could still retain his snobbish attitude.

"I can always feed you," L answered, smiling as Raito gave him a displeased look. "You ask me to let you go, yet how I am guaranteed that you will not do anything ungentlemanly towards me?"

"You're just going to have to trust me," Raito plainly voiced.

L looked at him very closely. He stood up from his wheelchair and carefully lowered himself to the floor, surprisingly taking a seat in front of Raito.

"I do not trust you, I will never trust you, and using that kind of rhetoric with me will get you nowhere." Leaning forward L hooked a finger in the top-most buckle located at the back of the strait-jacket,"But listening to you does not necessarily mean that I have to trust you."

L fingered the strap open and moved onto the next buckle, all the while keeping eye contact with Raito and continuing to brusquely unfasten each bind. It had been a long time since they had been this close to one another and L tried to limit the contact between them by keeping a brisk pace.

In no time at all he had reached the fifth buckle, the one pinning down Raito's left arm to his chest. He undid the strap and watched Raito pull his arm back to its corresponding side, resting it down and wincing when blood began to flow through it again.

L gazed down at the now free arm, and in response to this attention, Raito raised his hand and gently rested it on L's shoulder. "You can't complain if it's within plain view."

"No, I can't," L agreed, and intently focused on undoing the next strap that would release Raito's other arm. But for some reason, despite being no different from the rest, the sixth strap turned out to be more hassle than the Gordian knot. The metal catch inserted into the leather strip would not budge, and bringing his other hand around, L insistently pulled at it.

"If you weren't so tense you would have finished by now," Raito helpfully pointed out, and L felt himself involuntarily clam up at those words and the very unwanted memory that it recalled within him, or more appropriately with a certain part of his anatomy.

Raito hissed and L could practically feel the nasty look thrown his way when he accidentally dug his fingernail into the brunette's lower back. Glancing up, despite his gut telling him to avoid eye contact at all cost, L found Raito staring down at him with a rather severely blank look instead of the open aggression that he had been expecting.

Raito suddenly narrowed his eyes at him.

"You smell like cake."

L did not really know what to say to that. "It's Peach Glazed Savarin."

Even through the restrictions of the straitjacket's stitched-sleeves, L could still feel Raito's hand tighten on his shoulder.

"I had two slices," L found himself saying for no reason at all, as he noticed Raito moving his face unnervingly closer to his before completely disregarding his personal space and nonchalantly kissing him.

Raito smoothly placed the hand on his shoulder behind his neck to keep from getting away, not that L had any sudden overwhelming urges to escape mind you, especially not when Raito slipped his tongue past his lips and did something with it that made him feel like he was about to explode.

An intense minute later and Raito released him without a word, indifferently leaning against the wall and one-handedly undoing the last two buckles with remarkable finesse.

He pulled the straitjacket over his head heedlessly, mussing up hair that was still so much tidier than his own, and with a disdainful flick of the wrist Raito tossed the jacket to the side.

"Don't hold that against me," he said and rubbed the arm that was finally released.

"I won't," L mechanically responded, scooting a few paces away so his body could naturally calm down.

There was a long silence before the opening of the door interrupted it and Tailor walked in with a tray. He didn't necessarily look as mad as he should be noting what L had just let Raito do, so it was pretty safe to say that he had not been here to see them shamelessly making-out with each other. On the other hand, it was too much to ask that the doctor had missed it as well.

At least his misconduct, L thought, was completely worth the talking to he would have to sit through later.

**………………………….**

After watching Raito take his time with a full-course meal, and hearing Tailor snidely comment on abstaining from giving the mass-murderer chop-sticks or utensil-ware of any kind, not to mention a few more well-aimed barbs, the ex-soldier then gave him a lax salute and headed towards the door.

And as L watched him go, he could not help but think how annoying an interrogator Tailor was.

He had obviously chosen well.

"Are we happy now?" he asked Raito.

Raito did not answer and stretched.

"You're not thinking of making any more requests, are you?"

"I don't see why I shouldn't," Raito responded and rubbed the bruise on his cheek. "But if I were to do that or go back on my word, you'd call that prick in here again. I'm not in the mood to be roughed up so soon after a meal."

"Yes, I figured that much," L said and settled himself more comfortably on the floor.

"Plus we have some things to settle with each other," Raito said and L couldn't agree more.

"I haven't been fairly given a chance to explain my side of things and I think you, at least, owe me that much."

L gave Raito a "try-again" look and the teen ignored it. "I don't think I did anything wrong," he suddenly stated, and L chose to keep his mouth shut until Raito was better able to establish his opinion.

"I don't see what's so wrong with wanting a world that punishes criminals, or that makes examples out of them for that matter. What I've done isn't so different from what you've been doing all your life.

"The only thing that separates us," Raito said with a smile, "is that I'm just more _effective _at it than you."

Well, it did not take very long for them to already hit a road-bump.

"Effectiveness in dealing with criminals is _not_ how many you can kill in one night," L defended. "It's how many you can rehabilitate and bring back into society as normal, working-class individuals that will better the economy."

"And I'm not discrediting attempts to rehabilitate offenders," Raito defended back. "If anything, I was improving upon it. I've only mainly gone after serious criminals -- those that show no signs of wanting to change, and by making examples out of them, I give the lesser criminals incentive not to act. It's not so different from what the court systems employ, but they simply hand out more passive life-sentences while I've actually been getting things done. It should be obvious why the public is on my side, more than it is on yours or the police.

L shook his head. "You might have won over the majority by appealing to a simplistic sense of right and wrong, and they might not see you as a tyrant, but you are still using fear-tactics to control a certain group of the population. I do not care how many people believe you are a savior, it is still wrong."

"Don't give me that_ bullshit_, L," Raito snapped. "That _certain group of the population_ is criminals! To keep laws in place, you have to use fear of the consequences. That's what the entire judicial system is based on."

"Yes, but are_ you_ the entire judicial system?" L asked. "Are you qualified to make these decisions for humanity? What exactly makes you think that you are the right one to judge a person's sins, and cursorily at that, before killing them without reviewing their entire history. Irresponsible, Raito, you are an irresponsible child that needs to learn the value of human life."

"And what the hell do you know about human life?" Raito laughed. "Sitting up on your goddamn throne and only coming down to investigate people through a magnifying glass. Correct me if I'm wrong, but weren't you the one that wanted some felon to test out your theories? Oh, and lets not forget Yotsuba, and how you were so willing to let them kill a few CEOs for evidence."

"I do not have to justify myself to you. You were the one that set all these things in motion; I was simply trying to clean up your mess," he asserted. "You killed people, innocent people who were only doing their jobs. No, I do not have to justify my actions to you at all."

"And you think I wanted to kill them?" Raito asked incredulously. "I had no choice. If I had made even one wrong move, if I'd hesitated for even one second…" he looked away and pursed his lips. "I had no other choice. You've made sacrifices for this case, so you should understand that I had to make some tough decisions. They were for the betterment of mankind," he moralized, "so who cares what I had to do along the way, in the end, I was right." Raito paused and stared at him so intensely that if L were a mentally weaker person, he would have instantly succumbed to that look.

"I am right," he repeated and the emotion in his voice was staggering in comparison to his usual calm and collected demeanor. "Didn't you see it? How everything was coming together so perfectly. Crime was at an all time low, people who had some injustice done to them were able to get the retributions they craved, even as far as politeness went, you could see how different everyone was treating each other. I don't understand how you couldn't see it. You're _so _intelligent, how could you not see the same thing I saw?" he rationalized and actually looked distressed over it.

L felt a cold shiver run through his blood at those words and the blind determination behind them.

"The only thing I see here is a murderer trying to validate his actions by passing them off as a 'duty' to his society. You're the same as those criminals you despise so much, but what's worse is how you are unable to see what you've become. I have a word for people like you, Raito, it's called hypocrite."

"Go look in a mirror before you start name-calling," Raito fired back. "The only hypocrite I see in this room _is_ you. At least I attempted to make the world a better place -- what have you done? You only go after cases that _interest_ you. Is that anyway to deal out punishment? They have to get your _attention _before you do anything? You're nothing more than a selfish bastard, L, and then you turn around and try to lecture me on what's right and what's wrong. I really hate people like you."

"The feeling is very mutual," L returned. "It greatly annoys me how you can say these things, and yet, while people were dying you were taunting me with cute little prison notes and generally having a fun time demonstrating how you could kill whenever you felt like it. Do not try to fool me into thinking you were doing this for some great cause; you were doing it because you were bored. Maybe you had some sentiment towards justice at the beginning, but when I embarrassed you on national television it stopped being about _your_ cause and it started being about _your _pride."

"So what! I was a little pissed. I know I wasn't the only one."

"And you weren't," L told him frankly, "but killing someone in cold blood because you are a _little pissed_ makes me wonder what would happen when you are really angry."

L could see Raito's unmistakable temper flaring up under the surface. "You were the first and_ only_ one to provoke me, so it's your _own_ fault that things got as out-of-hand as they did for you."

"It is my fault that you shot me in the leg?" L asked and he could not believe the audacity that was currently being flung in his face.

"Nothing personal," Raito said flippantly.

"Wrong, very personal. You do not go after someone the way you did if you do not hold a grudge and intend to thoroughly make a fool out of them, you malicious bit—"

"Finish that sentence and I don't care who's watching, I'll make you regret it," Raito threatened.

L immediately did not like the route this conversation was taking.

They hadn't even chipped the surface and all they could do was bicker back and forth with each other. He had wanted to calmly discuss this, but it seemed like too much for today.

"We will pick this up tomorrow," L said dismissively and climbed back into his wheelchair, turning towards the door.

It would be best to leave things alone for now and then attempt this again when both sides had composed themselves. And as it stood now, they were both as composed as two tomcats with their hackles raised. If L had been able to walk, he was pretty sure he would have already started a fight between them, because as frustrating as it was to listen to this person, it was even more frustrating not being able to physically do anything about it.

Raito looked as ready to start something with him as he was, so it was clear his frustrations were reciprocated by the brunette.

"L," Raito suddenly called, and the detective turned around to see him brushing his bangs away from his face in a tired motion. "I'm only talking to you about this, if those two idiots behind the door ask me questions, I'm not going to answer them."

There was a knock on the two-way mirror that sounded indignant.

L let his temper slide to the back of his mind and addressed Raito as normally as he could. "They will behave themselves in concerns to this, but you have not brought up anything about the missing notebook and nor do I think you ever will if unprompted, so they will continue to do as they please."

Raito did not immediately say anything, facing away from him and lying down on his side. "What day is it today?" he asked out of the blue, closing his eyes.

L hesitated in opening the door. "The 28th of February" he answered, knowing full well that Raito knew exactly what day it was today.

From the other side of the room, L heard a short bark of laughter. "And here I thought you would wish me a happy 19th birthday."

L stared back at Raito and there was just something so immensely tragic about how he faced the wall, laying on his side, that proud back the only thing he allowed anyone to see of him right now.

"There is nothing happy about today" L said before he closed the door softly behind him.

**

* * *

****1.** **Whited Sepulcher **– a person inwardly corrupt or wicked, but outwardly or professedly virtuous or holy: hypocrite. fr. the simile in Mt. 23:27

**2.** The excerpt "_We went along with the ten demons…"_ is from the XXI Canto, describing the journey to the fifth Bolgia of the Eighth Circle, which punishes corrupt leaders or politicians. They are immersed in a lake of boiling pitch and guarded by devils, the Malebranche (Evil Claws) and their leader Malacoda (Evil Tail)

**3.**"I suppose myself, but do not take the word of a liar" "If you're a Cretan then I'll never figure you out." What L and Raito are jointly alluding to is Epimenides paradox, which is named after the Cretan philosopher Epimenides, who says, "All Cretans are liars." It's a problem in logic because of the paradox that arises from that statement due to Epimenides calling himself a liar, yet if he's lying about this, then he's telling the truth according to his statement…? (This is the kind of thing that makes people want to slap other people...)

**4.** _"There below we found a painted people…" _This is from Canto XXIII, the sixth Bolgia, which punishes hypocrites by making them listlessly walk around wearing gold-gilded lead cloaks. The guardians of the fraudulent (the Malebranche) are hypocrites themselves.


	17. Animosity and Amity

_I heard say to me,__ "Beware how thou steppest;_

_Take heed thou trample not__…_

_…__the heads of the wretched weary brethren."_

_Where__at I turned, and saw before me…_

_…the woeful shades within the __ice_

_One day later_

"Stop trying to force your opinions on me."

"I am not forcing my opinions on you; I am only making it clear how opposed I am to what you did."

"And you don't seem to understand that for a new system to work, people must die, sacrifices must be made, otherwise no one will listen. I had to make examples out a few to even out the sides. I mean, you had the full support of the FBI and the NPA at the time. What was I supposed to do, not put up counter-measures? What I did was merely self-defense."

"You call taking out twelve respectable FBI agents self-defense? Then what about Miss Naomi Misora, what did she do? Is she not justified for seeking out the killer of her fiancé? Was it wrong of her to seek out justice for herself and her husband-to-be?"

"That's just an unfortunate circumstance. I can't make _everyone_ happy. A few must suffer so the majority can live in peace."

"That seems to be your theme," L said, "that a few must suffer. But then if that is the case, why didn't you take most of that suffering upon yourself instead of fleeing from it?"

"And be caught by you sooner?" Raito asked, incredulously. "The ones with the ability to make things happen should never give themselves over that easily. And you'd better not say anything because you'd never throw yourself in front of a camera to save anyone."

"That does not mean you can use your intelligence to excuse yourself from punishment. You should be punished twice for even thinking that because you should know better, more than anyone else…"

"Know better? I do know better. No one else would use the deathnote as I have. You've seen Higuchi -- he represents what most if not all people ever think about: money."

"Do not be conceited," L said, disapproval laced in his voice. "Higuchi only represents a small class of individuals that are extremely wealthy and extremely greedy. You have never known want for anything in your life. You are far from poor. Do not talk ill of other because they have their priorities to maintain. Money is important; it might not be important to you, but it is important to those that do not have any."

"You know that's not what I meant."

"But that is how it sounds."

"Well then what about you," Raito countered, "you're not exactly poor yourself."

"No, I am not. But we all do not start off as billionaires," he said dryly. "We all must start somewhere, however low we are and however far we have to climb."

Throughout his words Raito had been carefully watching him. "Can I ask you something about your background?"

"No," L replied tersely.

Raito scowled, quick to object. "Don't you think that's unfair? That you know everything about me, but I barely even know --"

"Yes it is unfair so leave it alone," L told him, and Raito was surprised at how quickly he was dismissed.

There was an awkward silence following that remark.

L felt suddenly annoyed with himself. "This is not about my background," he reasoned, "this is about yours." Pausing as a thought came to him, he said, "let me ask you something, how do you think your father would react if he knew the kind of person you turned out to be?"

"You make me sound like I'm the world's most ungrateful son." Not surprising Raito reacted unfavorably towards his question, but L would persist, nonetheless.

"Then how else should I look at it, if that's the wrong perspective to take?"

"I've always done everything that my father has expected of me," Raito recounted without any trace of his usual condescension. "He raised me to be a certain way and I would never embarrass him with anything less. My grades, my behavior, my duties to him... question whatever you want about me, but never question the love I have for my father or my family. Everyone _else_ can go to hell," Raito stressed, "but there has never been a point through all of this where I have ever stopped loving my father, my mother, or Sayu."

L did not doubt that Raito loved his family; the only purity he had left was solely directly towards them. But Raito had also been getting steadily worse as the days went by and he continued to use the notebook. L was confident that it would not be long until that love was wholly corrupted, like everything else in his life, and that when the time did finally come, Raito would kill his family if it meant saving himself.

Even now, L was pretty sure Raito would have taken that route to avoid capture.

"And your family loves you more than anything," L replied, suppressing his last thoughts. "But don't you realize how much you would hurt them if they found out what you have done? How much you _ha__d _already hurt your father, how much he had to suffer as he listened to his son being accused of crime after crime. If you really love them as you say, you would have stopped the moment you realized that notebook could kill. You would have thrown it away."

"It's not that simple," Raito disagreed. "If I had done that things would still be the same, festering away under jaded laws and an even more apathetic public. Don't you see that it's people like my father, the righteous and self-sacrificing ones that suffer the most under such a worn-out justice system."

"Yes, but you keep by-passing the real dilemma here, which is, does all of your planning justify betraying and hurting your family like this? Don't you understand -- I had Watari tell your father and the investigation team that you are dead."

L could feel that welling of words that always struck him in Raito's presence and which he did not have any control over, but which always had overwhelming control over him.

"How do you think that makes him feel? Or how will it make your mother and sister feel -- knowing that she has so suddenly lost her child or that your sister has lost her brother and only sibling. I doubt it is a good feeling," L said. "Your father has not told them yet. He is still in denial and searching around in France as we speak. But I do not want Yagami-san to suffer that way, so I will be sending him the remains of his son soon."

Raito's eyes widened.

"Unfortunately, I am not finished with you yet, so I will be sending a look-alike in your place. It was hard to find someone with the similar measurements and skin tone; luckily you do not bear any birth-marks or scars that would give us away. Not to mention that the face of your look-alike was completely shot-off, so it is hard to tell, even for a mother, what her child would look like after that. Your father will want meticulous testing done on the body, so I will have someone fake the results of the autopsy and blood-work and any other miscellaneous detail that would add to the authenticity of your double."

Raito's face had grown pale at L's clear-cut explanation, his breath hitching every so often.

"It would be for the best if your family had the funeral now; that way, they will be given the chance to grieve and move on with their lives that much sooner."

Raito was no longer staring at him, amber eyes trailing along the ground with a focus that belied the lost look on his face. "I don't feel like talking to you right now," he said.

L opened his mouth to say otherwise, but stopped. He could tell that Raito was determined to ignore him: by the fixed way he was staring down at the ground and the stiffness in his hands as they clenched around one another. Raito was going to continue to disregard him and nothing L could say right now would change that.

He slowly rested his hands on the rims of his wheelchair, his fingers running idly on the cold metal.

"Yes…l suppose we'll have our talk later."

**

* * *

**"Rem-san, what is Raito's shinigami like?" L asked, and had to wait for his answer as the shinigami watched the monitor that showed Misa. "Rem-san?"

"What does it matter?" she responded. "It will not change anything if I were to tell you."

"But you can answer it, even if you cannot tell me where he is right now."

Rem floated over to the other monitoring station and stared at another screen that showed Misa from a different angle.

"Is he similar to you? Would he break any rules in the notebook to help the mortal that has his own?" L stared down at the notebook that he had confiscated from Higuchi, but was really Raito's in disguise.

He had asked Rem to finish writing down all the rules in this notebook and she had actually done as requested. But getting her in a talkative mood was always another story. The only thing she seemed to care about was checking up on Misa. Then when she was satisfied that the blonde was being taken care of, she would float off in the middle of any of L's attempts to talk to her, disappearing to the snow-covered rooftop for a couple of hours to possibly contemplate on her situation.

"Is he even a he?" L asked, swirling his fork around in the icing generously smothered over the top of his cake. "Any information that might be helpful before you disappear for today," he said, looking up to see half of Rem's body already swallowed up by the wall.

L stared blankly forward and thought he could not blame the shinigami. If he could escape through walls whenever people started bothering him, he would never be caught in the same room for more than a second.

"He and Raito are alike," Rem suddenly revealed. She was still missing half of her body to the wall, but that did not seem to bother her at all.

"He supports what Raito does?"

"He sits there and watches if that's what you mean," Rem said.

"Am I to believe that he would come here and kill me to save Raito?"

Rem's facial expression stayed the same, but the air around her seemed to grow less serious. "When I said Ryuuk and Raito are alike, I meant he only cares about himself and he won't stick his neck out for anyone. When you meet him, you will understand," she said, whilst completely disregarding the laws of science and sinking into the wall like it was made out of water and not plasterboard.

"Ryuuk?" L slowly pronounced. He looked down at his cake and hoped that he would get to meet the owner of that name very soon.

**

* * *

**Hunde walked in with a medical-case and Raito's eyes followed him closely as he opened it and began to prep right in front of him. Tailor, walking in behind him, grinned at Raito and made a motion towards the doctor.

"Today we have something special for you," and as the ex-soldier said this, Hunde took out a hypodermic needle from the small kit. He injected a clear vial and then pulled back the syringe to slowly drain the fluid from the tiny container.

Obviously, the doctor could have prepped the needle outside, but it always made people more anxious when they were made to witness the motions that led up to their actual torture.

Physical pain might get some to talk, but it was the apprehension of what was to come -- the wait, the uncertainty of what could possibly be in that small, clear vial and the heart-pounding seconds in between knowing that usually got most.

Raito was more psychologically complex than your average teenager. That much was clear. He was abnormally good at coping under stressful situations as these two had learned, and any methods they had used so far had lacked a certain edge.

Of course, they had learned that Raito was deathly afraid of the water torture, but even that was not enough to get them results.

The problem was they were attacking his body to get to his mind, and while that was always a sure-fire way to get to people, the parameters that L had placed down on them was going to cancel out any affect they might have had with Raito.

No, if they wanted results, they might as well just skip over the body and go directly for the mind; and what better way to do this than to use a truth serum. Now, there was no absolute serum out there; many of them were just ethanol-based and had the same effect as a great buzz. It might lower inhibitions, but it did not guarantee confessions of any kind.

The same thing was true for the serum they were about to use. Sodium pentothal might interfere with higher cognitive functions in the assumption that since lying was much more complex than telling the truth, if you confused the part of the brain responsibly for higher level thinking, then the person under that influence would begin giving honest answers.

It was a tidy idea that some psychiatrists had come up with, but that was less applicable in actual situations when taking into account how uselessly chatty the person could become and how lying under the influence of this drug was still very possible when the subject had established a story in their head…

True, there was no perfect truth serum out there, but Doctor Hunde had gone through enough black-market pharmaceuticals to know which ones were more effective; and this one, despite defects, was a continuous winner.

In tandem to turning the syringe upside down and flicking it several times to remove the air-bubbles, the doctor insipidly ordered Tailor around, treating this as if it were a routine check-up. "Can you please hold him down for me?"

Raito went absolutely pale when Tailor began approaching him.

"Where do you want me to put him?"

"Just leave him there, although I wouldn't mind having a table for this sort of thing."

"Ask before the fact, doc," Tailor grumbled, hunching down in front of Raito and yanking cursorily on his elbow to check the handcuffs behind his back.

Pressing into the wall as far as he could go, Raito got that deer-in-the-headlights look on his face before Tailor grabbed his shoulder and pushed him further back.

The doctor was walking up to them, he expelled some extra fluid from the needle-tip and stooped down on Raito's other side. "Turn his head and hold him still."

Tailor pushed Raito's head to the side, exposing his neck -- a move that caused the teen to start acting out his panic as he kicked a leg out and tried to twist away from the hand on his shoulder.

"Hold him still, Tailor."

"Yeah, just hurry up and stick him in the neck already."

Mr. Hunde sighed and moved closer to Raito. He saw the absolutely petrified look on the boy's face, and maybe somewhere deep down inside, he pitied him for a second.

However, any of that sympathy dried up and blew away like sand when Raito's arm suddenly darted out from behind his back, the handcuffs still attached to one of his wrists!!

Using the edge of the handcuff still on his wrist, Raito caught Tailor right above the eye, cutting him deeply and getting the man to release him.

"Shit," the doctor hissed, but didn't even need to drop the syringe as Tailor quickly recovered and back-handed the boy right across the face and hard enough to knock him out cold.

"Goddammit" Tailor cursed, holding the cut over his eye. "Why are those handcuffs open?"

Raito fell forward, unconscious, and Mr. Hunde noticed something had fallen out of his mouth.

"Tailor, come see what I found…"

"Jesus Christ, I'm gonna kill this little fucker." Blinking the blood out of his eye, he squinted at the object as it was held up in front of him.

"Where in the world did he get that?" Tailor asked, pressing down hard on the gash with his thumb and wiping across to try and stop the bleeding.

"I think I have an idea," Hunde said. He pocketed the item, and turning towards the boy again, he checked his syringe and then injected him in the neck.

"Go get L. I need to have another talk with him."

* * *

"Guess what we found in his mouth?" was the first words to come out at L as he passed through the door.

L halted his wheelchair in front of the two-way mirror and peered at Raito, tied to a chair, head slumped forward and unmoving. "What exactly did you do to him?" he asked, appearing to not care at all about Hunde's question.

"Sodium pentothal," Tailor said simply. L glanced over at the ex-soldier, particularly over his right eye. Then turning back towards the doctor, he looked down at his suddenly proffered hand and the object that was in it.

"Do you have any idea where he could have gotten this?"

L stared at it, and then reached into his back pocket and took out his cell phone, which was, as expected, missing the screw-on antenna. He looked up at both men and smiled. "Ah, I believe that would be mine."

Tailor and Hunde both looked at L in complete disbelief.

"You walked in there with a cell phone?" Tailor asked.

L looked as unbothered as ever. "I go everywhere with my cell phone."

Tailor closed his eyes and then pointed angrily at the two-way mirror. "You know what, that's not even the problem here. The problem is _how exactly_ was he able to get close enough to you to unscrew your goddamn cell-phone antenna without you noticing!"

L looked at the doctor.

It was obvious what the answer to that was.

It might have only been for a minute, but that kiss had given Raito enough time to rifle through his pockets for something useful to jimmy his handcuffs open. How embarrassing that L had fallen for it so thoroughly that he had not even been suspicious of the kiss, had not even been aware enough to realize that Raito had taken his hand off his neck at some point during that time -- that it even took only one of Raito's hands to slip into his clothing and make a complete ass out of him.

Of course, it was a fluke that he had not used his cell that day, but still, for Raito to go ahead and do this, despite knowing he could be found out at any time, attested to just how much he cared.

L could truthfully say that he was the type of person that did not get embarrassed easily. He couldn't even remember a time in his life where he thought he should feel shame for something he had done.

Today, however, was a different story.

"Are you going to tell me?" Tailor demanded. "I checked his handcuffs and maybe not as thoroughly as I should have, but we usually don't have to worry at all when it's impossible – or it should be – for him to get something like that from one of us."

"I will admit that it was wrong of me to walk in there with a cell phone, but I employed you because you are a professional. You know what to expect with these types of jobs."

"I didn't expect to nearly get my eye gouged out," Tailor complained, "because that spiteful little prick was aiming for my _eye_."

Interrupting his partner with a rather annoyed-sounding cough, Mr. Hunde turned to L. "We would only like you to be more careful and maybe a little more considerate of our situations when you step into that room. There is also one more thing that I would like to talk to you about," Mr. Hunde continued, but was suddenly cut off as L began to notice Raito stirring awake.

"Can you please hold that thought?" L abruptly handed over his cell phone to the speechless doctor and reversed his pockets in front of them. Then without further ado, he opened the door to Raito's cell and went in.

Both men silently stared after the detective.

"So be straight with me, is that guy autistic?"

"Don't ask me those kinds of questions when there are cameras around."

* * *

"L…?" Raito murmured, blinking his eyes open. The tone of his voice was significantly different from what it had been this morning and that of the past few months: less severe, more gentle, and a million times more bewildered. His face was so open that it was like staring at another person. The unfamiliarity from his gaze alone was unsettling.

"Hello Raito-kun, how are you feeling?" L asked, noting all the nuances of change and outright differences in the person sitting across from him. "How does your head feel? Does it hurt or are you feeling more dazed?"

"What?" Raito asked, drowsily.

"Never mind," L said, getting his answer from that. "Do you know why I'm here?"

Raito squinted at him before faintly replying, "To talk to me…like you always do."

"Yes, so this is no different from all those times. Do you feel up to talking to me?" L asked, testing Raito's susceptibility to requests.

L was treated to another rare sight from Raito, a look of confusion on that normally superior face. "What are we talking about?"

"Nothing yet, but we can talk about anything you like." L wanted the serum to have more of an effect before he started asking him anything about the notebook, so he would hold off on any of the important questions.

Raito was trying to sit up straighter, but his hands had been tied behind his back and linked through the open space behind his seat, the ends of the cord fastening his hands together further knotted around the arms of the chair. "Where are those two guys from before?" Raito questioned lethargically. He was trying to sit up again. "They're here, right?"

"No, it's just the two of us," L assured, "as it has always been -- or for the most part anyway."

Raito slumped, giving up on his endeavor of sitting up. "Then it's okay if I go to sleep? I know you'll wait for me…" Raito's eyes had been halfway open since waking and now they were slowly closing. L stared at him and then suddenly clapped his hands loudly together, causing the brunette's eyes to fly open.

"Yes, I could wait a very long time for you, but don't you think it would be unfair to do that to me?"

"I guess so," Raito said simplistically, which was very out of character for him. Then he moodily added, "But you usually wait. Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me for going through your pockets when you weren't looking? I told you not to hold it against me."

"Is that what you meant? I thought it was for something else."

Exasperatedly, "why would I apologize for kissing you?" he said, inadvertently turning it around on him so Tailor was given a reason as to how the detective had lost his cell phone antenna. He seemed to have lost that sleepy drawl to his voice, but L supposed being angry would do that. "You enjoyed it, so why should I apologize? Or why should I stop myself from kissing someone if I feel like it."

A rap came from the window that was most likely a complaint for L to get Raito away from this topic.

"Especially when it means I get something in return."

L made a motion for them to cut the audio devices around the room.

"Hitting that guy in the face was the best birthday present I ever got."

There was another louder rap at the glass, but L made the motion again, and thankfully no knock followed his second signal for them to cut the audio. He didn't feel like letting them listen in on this conversation. Raito had already given him a confession, so this option was more than open to him.

"I don't get why you were being so stubborn about wishing me a happy birthday," Raito said, out of the blue. He was gazing at him peculiarly. "I don't get it and yet you still gave me a birthday present, letting me go through your pockets like that. You're so weird sometimes…"

L was very thankful that the audio was off because that kind of comment, despite not being true, would nevertheless get him in trouble.

"Don't mistake my carelessness for cooperation."

"Then why'd you stick your tongue down my throat?"

L stared at Raito, and for the first time in his life, he didn't have an answer.

"Don't give me that look," Raito said, staring back at him. "You always get so huffy with me now, like I ate your last piece of cake or something. What's the big deal? It was only a kiss. I've done much worse to you and you never got so uptight about it."

Well, these kinds of drugs were known for making people talkative, and Raito was certainly being chatty. He was also being very casual with him, something that he no longer did, having naturally exchanged that easy air for one of distance and coldness.

"Yes, it was only kiss. I suppose I should grow up," L replied, smiling as he was given that bored perusal that Raito had a habit of doing in the past. "I already know how you truly feel about me, so that kind of thing should not bother me." He rested his chin down between the cradle of his knees as he rested one of his feet on top of the other.

"That I hate you?"

L closed his eyes. "Yes, at the moment I am not exactly crazy about you either."

"It's complicated too," Raito murmured back.

L opened his eyes. Past the "I hate yous" he did not really expect anything else. "The way you act, I would think things are fairly simple in that head of yours that does not love anyone but yourself. It is not like I do not understand why you dislike me so much." L titled his head to the side. "The hindering of your world _progress_, your dethronement, the torture, our vast ideological differences, my habit of clipping my toenails on the bed we used to share -- yes, there are many reasons why you would hate me with all the fiber of your being."

L was caught off-guard as he noticed the faint smile at the corner of Raito's lips.

"Then do you understand why I liked you so much?"

L stopped and stared at Raito.

Exactly what amount of Sodium pentothal was he given?

"I had fun playing with you. The most fun I ever had in my life."

L frowned. People were dying left and right, and he was more preoccupied with how much _fun_ he was having. But L supposed_ that_ was the kind of creature Raito was, utterly selfish to the end.

"You thought it was fun too."

"Yes," L admitted, and could not deny that he was also _that_ kind of creature. "You certainly know how to show a boy a good time."

His remark was met with a raised eyebrow. "Don't make me sound like some prostitute…"

L smiled at that. "Yes, you are right, you are no mere prostitute; to sleep with Raito-kun one must prepare to die soon afterwards, so in truth, you are an extremely _expensive _prostitute."

Raito scoffed at him. "You're the one who accepted my deal in the first place."

"I may have had a brain-lapse when I was thinking it over."

"That's probably true. It didn't take long for you to decide. I thought you'd at least sleep on it." Smiling smugly, Raito said, "Though, I'm pretty proud of myself for getting you in one night. You seem like an impossible screw."

L titled his head the other way, trying that one on for size. He had been called many things in his life by the media, and out of the all his broadcasted monikers, "impossible screw" was not one of them. Give Raito the points for originality.

"That is true. I am very work-orientated," L said, half-joking, half-entirely serious. "It is hard for me to take that kind of interest in people. I will admit that during the first few months I was very smitten with you, but in a completely friendly and non-sexual way. After all, I had found my equal in you and I was quite excited at seeing your reactions to the things I did, the things I said…"

"We argued most of the time," Raito pointed out. "So is that what you were so excited about?"

"What about you? I was always under the impression that you hated contention of any kind?"

"I do, I absolutely detest it -- when it comes from you. But when other people argue about Kira, I don't really care since they don't have their facts straight. It's kind of funny when I hear those debates on Sakura Tv. I don't deny that there are a lot of ignorant people out there that support Kira. It's the same for your side. Idiots are everywhere. I just would rather not have to argue with any of them. The only one I feel I have to prove my point to is you. I want you and only you to hear me out. If I wanted to have a mind-numbing conversation without the drama, then I'd face the wall and pour my heart out to it instead of bickering with other people."

"That's how you see others?

"Most of the time," Raito said frankly. "No one but you tries to debate with me. I wish they'd learn how to stop being so boring."

Raito was contradicting himself. He said he hated it when they argued, but yet he wished more people would argue with him like they did. It was like a child acting out, the drugs were obviously helping to further exaggerate his feelings, but this was Raito at his core.

L opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself.

Plainly put, Raito had some serious issues that had started way before he had even gotten his hands on that deathnote. The notebook might have acted as a catalyst -- the fact that Raito was given much more power over people's lives than any one person should have certainly had warped him -- but a catalyst never worked alone, it needed something to accelerate.

Raito had grown up with an idea firmly fixed in his head that he was the best; one that his teachers, his parents, simply the people around him all condoned as they steadily fed his ego until he grew apathetic towards them and their praise.

He had never had anyone to compete against, to knock a few notches off his belt, or even to understand him. L had grown up in an environment where people were overtly challenging him, always trying to beat him – they might not have come close, but he had people who were similar to him, who had the same drive, and who had not let his ego get out of control. As far as competitive atmospheres went, Wammy House was a figurative arena.

Maybe Raito would have benefitted from something like that…

"It makes sense that things turned out this way when you lack respect for people."

"I don't lack respect for everyone. I respect my father, I respect you."

"What about your mother?"

Raito gave him a strange look. "I love my mother, but I don't necessarily have to…_admire_ her."

Biting the end of his thumb, L studied the person across from him. He had noticed this a long time ago. Naturally, he had never brought it up, but…

"Is that because you lack respect for females?"

There was a pause before, "what are you talking about?"

"You are a bit chauvinistic. I do not think anyone has ever tried to correct you about it."

"I…" Raito chuckled at him. "I don't see what the problem is."

"Of course, you treat men no better," L continued. "But you objectify women and use them for whatever purposes you see fit. I only wanted to point that out to you. You have some serious issues when it comes to the female gender, not to mention some other issues…"

Raito was giving him the "wtf" face.

"It could be that your treatment of women is simply a behavioral manifestation of the revulsion you have towards commitment or being tied down to one human being. That you believe by staying with one woman you are not as free as you ought to be and that the only person you should show that kind of absolute loyalty to is yourself. It also does not help that you do not think anyone is good enough for you."

Raito was as mature as they came, but in others matters he still had a lot of growing up to do. L did not feign to be any better, but at least he didn't run from commitment like it was the plague.

Tapping his two index fingers together, L then added, "But that is my diagnosis. I could be wrong."

Raito huffed at some strands in his face, narrow eyes becoming narrower. "It really bugs me when you do that."

"Ah…when I point out your flaws. Yes, I am disappointed that no one else does, but this is the world we live in, where a pretty face can get away with anything." L scratched the bridge of his nose. "But on the much more pleasant side of things, it is nice to hear that Raito-kun respects me. He should already know that I have always thought very highly of him, despite his insolence towards the woman who bore and raised him as well as every other woman he has ever come into contact with, not to mention his ego that is so very large that it could suffocate whole planets."

L smiled. The great thing about the Sodium pentothal was that after a while of circulating through the bloodstream, it made the person under its influence unable to hold a temper. Being angry probably wore them out.

Luckily for L, Raito was entering that phase.

"...I like the way I can't predict your actions all the time. But when I'm really expecting you to do one thing and you do the opposite, I kind of hate it too," Raito said, still very calm. "Like when I assumed you would hide yourself, only to find you sneaking up behind me at my college-entrance ceremony. Or when I thought the last thing you'd want to do is bring up your suspicions about me after that tennis match, you tell me what percentage you think I'm Kira and then ask me what questions I have. And then suddenly announcing we're friends when we barely even knew each other…not that I know any more about you now…" Raito trailed off, picking up his sentence after a pause. "Oh and hinting at going into hiding and then popping up in front of me at school again. Then on top of that stealing Misa's cell and grinning about it when I wasn't even ten feet away."

L could not deny he had a good laugh at that one.

"I really hated you for those things…" and though he was saying all these things, his voice could not be more factual and dry. "But I also couldn't help but feel really…impressed by it, even if you were acting like a total jackass."

"Do not call me a jackass."

"Okay," Raito agreed. "I won't call you a bastard either."

"Please do that," L encouraged.

"Oh, do you want to know something else?"

L smiled at how seriously Raito asked him that question. "I am very open to all the dirty secrets you have hidden away in here." L tapped his finger against the side of his skull.

"Every time you got me angry, I would always think up the best plans afterwards. The angrier I got, the better the plan. You ever felt so motivated that you thought you could do anything? That's how I felt." Raito sighed in a familiar way, like how he normally did after they had sex. "I felt so challenged, like this was something that I could fail at, but at the same time this was something that I could win at too. I put everything I had on the line. I just wanted to beat you so badly. I wanted to win and let you know that despite all the odds set against me, I was still victorious over you. That I was better…"

L let go off the breath he had been unintentionally holding.

Intense, how Raito spoke, it was so intense. L could feel the pores rising on the back of the neck and along his arms. He understood what Raito meant. It would be impossible for him to get this far without knowing exactly what Raito meant.

As driven as he was by his principles, he was a million times more motivated by the challenge this case had posed. Pressure and confrontation, there was never a moment in his career where he felt these things so deeply, so fervently and so passionately that it really no longer was a question of morality when he went after Raito. All the decency and ethics and general goodness of a saint couldn't pull this case up from what it had degraded into, and the _speck _of integrity that had begun it all – gone! so that in the end the only thing that remained was the two who had started it all and their rather fucked-up feelings for each other.

L pressed his thumb against his front teeth. "I cannot believe how incredibly charming you can still be, even with an unknown amount of Sodium pentothal circulating through your system. That kind of sex appeal makes me wish that it was just the two of us and there was possibly a table in this room."

Raito crossed his legs and smirked at him. "Do we really need the table?"

L rubbed his feet together. "No, but before I start proposing marriage to you, there is one little thing that I would like to know."

"Yes?"

"Where did you hide Misa's notebook?"

* * *

**A/n:** That was a rather strange place to stop. That's probably one of them cliffhangie things that's so popular (unpopular?) with you kids today. I'm being booed right now, I can hear it. Anyway, I was actually going to have this chapter up a whole week earlier, but I got sick, so suckfest. I'll try really hard to get the next chapter up in one week, but if I do not accomplish my goal -- school's rolling around the corner -- then I have simply failed and I will bring it to you the next week. Hm…what kind of lazy promise is that?

**1.**"_I heard say to me…"_ From Canto XXXII, this is where Dante finally enters into the ninth and last circle of hell, where specifically traitors are punished, or those that have a special relationship with the one they betrayed, unlike the merely fraudulent who are punished in the eighth circle. They're frozen in a lake called "Cocytus," and how deep they are depends on what zone they belong to. The first zone of the ninth circle, from which the excerpt is taken, is called Caina, named after Cain. This is where those that have betrayed their kin or family are located.


	18. Adam and Eve

_One week later_

An email was sent from Aiber stating that the duplicate had arrived in Japan. Each member of the investigation team had been notified. Yagami-san, who had been in Lourdes at the time, bought a one-way ticket to Japan, arriving a day later, his mental strength waning.

However, what had delivered the final blow to his hopes was the sight of his son, laid out on an examining table, a kerchief covering his face.

A pathologist posing as the NPA's resident-head post-mortem examiner was hired by Aiber. He explained everything to Yagami-san, cause of death -- which was harshly evident by the multiple gunshots to the face. He showed him blood samples, charts, whatever would convince the grieving father that this was his son and he was good and dead.

Of course, Yagami-san had gone out searching for other opinions on the matter. Anyone within the Forensic department that could tell him otherwise, that this was not his son, that this could not be his son, that this should not be his son.

But the only people who could competently diagnose such a thing were the other pathologists, who Aiber had approached long before to "arrange" their monetary futures. They had unflinchingly lied about the results, and the next few days played out in a cruel but necessary fashion, the chief continually questioning their expertise and them refuting all his claims with soothing words like 'you're going through a rough time right now' or 'maybe you should call your wife and daughter.'

He tried to get in contact with Watari over twenty times. At some point, Aiber was certain it was only by the bare threads of his job, driving him onward, that was holding back the uncompromising despair that awaited Yagami-san at the end of all of this.

The rest of the investigation team had brought in another pathologist, which was not unexpected by the conman. Aiber looked into his background, easily found information to blackmail him with, and then unscrupulously threatened him before sealing it with hush money.

The funeral was set for March 28, exactly one month after Raito's birthday.

Watari poured the usual tea, the steam floating up and coiling in the air fragrantly. L, however, did not touch the cup, fingers too busy opening and closing screens or tapping discordantly along his knees. There was an unfamiliar restlessness to his movements, and that agitation only seemed to amplify as the many surveillance monitors that displayed various rooms throughout the building began to shut down, booting back up again one at a time, each now patched into the feed of the overhead camera in one particular subbasement cell.

"Would you rather some coffee?" Watari asked. He waited for a response, but it never came. L's eyes were glued to the screens, the pad of his thumb pressing up against his gums and distorting his upper lip and cheek.

"L?" Watari tried again, surprised that he actually had to call out for a second time. L could be however deep into thought and he would always answer when called. Placing down his tea-tray, Watari gazed at the detective.

There was an odd intensity to how he was staring at the monitors. Of course, there was always that concentration that could be seen as over-the-top when L looked at a person, particularly a person who interested him, and even more particularly, Raito. But it was always analytical, dissecting; his looking was there to support his theories, to aid him in the investigation, to help him put pressure on his suspects.

There was absolutely nothing rational or analytical about the way L looked at Raito anymore. He was staring at him for another reason, for a reason completely cut-off from the case.

And that was dangerous.

"L Lawliet" Watari said, without any inflection in his voice, and L broke away from the screen to finally give him his attention.

"What are you doing?"

"Would you like some coffee?" Watari offered simply. He thoroughly ignored the odd stare L was giving him, as he had gotten used to those and a number of other immature traits the detective possessed by the time he was hitting puberty. "Also," Watari added, skipping over pleasantries, "Miss Amane has been asking to speak to you. Do you think you could spare some time to go to her?"

L nodded, as if to assure himself more than to give Watari an answer. He hesitantly moved away from his desk, stopping altogether when he reached the door. He turned back to look at Watari and the older man walked up to him, taking the wheelchair by the handle-bars and pushing him on.

* * *

_"Misa's deathnote?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Where I hid it?"_

_"Yes."_

_"I know where it is, but I'm not sure I should tell you."_

_"You can trust me. Friends do not keep secrets from each other."_

_"You're not my friend."_

_"That hurts, but you still have to tell me where you hid Misa's deathnote."_

_"I'll give you a clue."_

_"I see that you are still in the mood to play with me. That's fine. Give me your clue."_

_"It's under the tree of knowledge – you know where that is."_

_"Why would I know?"_

_"Adam should also know how to find it."_

_"I do not know if you are merely being cryptic or obvious."_

_"The serpent's there too."_

_"You mean Ryuuk?"_

_"He probably wants an apple, so if you see him give him one, but don't eat it yourself."_

_"You are very fixated on this idea. Am I to believe that the deathnote is under a tree?"_

_"Oh most precious of all trees in Paradise, worthy of highest praise, henceforth often shall I ease the burden of your branches, fill on your diet I grow mature in knowledge, as a god who knows all things…"_

_"Now you are quoting Milton. That makes me think I am on the right track."_

_"Adam shall share with me, whether in bliss or woe. So dear I love him that with him all deaths I could endure, without him, live no life."_

_"I see that you would rather postpone telling me any more information. You must not trust yourself to speak if you would rather recite lines from Paradise Lost. Fighting the drug this late into things, you are a very troublesome person, Raito."_

_"Do you see in me a corpse, Adam, for such grief your words and face express? Yet I feel twice alive and awake as before. Or can it be that already I transcend to levels above man's low perception."_

_"So it is buried under a tree? It must be a large tree since you are comparing it to the Tree of Knowledge. You had been planning to tell __Misa__ the location at my headquarters, so I doubt you would make the directions overly complicated. It would have to be simple. I am betting that the tree was located somewhere in that area, so it must be noticeable from the building, but from what direction? If I remember correctly, there were large, forested lands to both the East and South. Would you like to give me answer from those two choices?"_

_"…"_

_"Your silence says that I might be on the right track. How can I phrase it __so you will play along with me?__Ah, I think I have it: With unrelenting pride and steadfast hate, though in pain, to his battered partner hoarsely he proclaimed…"_

_"__…__Neither for this, nor for what else his powerful rage can inflict, will I repent or change! Though outwardly I may be changed, not so in my fixed mind, nor my disdain, or sense of injustice which raised me to contend with the mightiest." _

_"I always thought that Lucifer was given the best lines in that book. Don't you agree?" _

_"At that point in the story, he was known as Satan." _

_"__Do tell?"_

_"Satan translates to 'the wanderer' or 'adversary' __which makes sense that God would name him this after he rebelled against him. But Lucifer means light-bearer. During his__ time spent in heaven,__ he was God's most cherished angel, so it's only natural that his creator give him a name that shows his partiality to him, and what better way t__o show his love than comparing __him to light. There's also dawn-bringer, morning star…" _

_"Yes, but what about his other monikers, like Prince of the East or Prince of the South?"_

_"__Why are quoting from that book?"_

_"__Because you are not taking all text into account. Even though __Lucifer and Satan are considered separate entities in that book, the titles given to him still makes sense. __Satan fell to Hell, which is under Heaven, and Lucifer was named after the morning star, which is Venus, and is visible in the East at sunrise. Therefore, Prince of the East and Prince of the South. East or South? Lucifer or Satan. By the way, which do you prefer of the two?"_

_"Lucifer__."_

_"Yes, you w__ould choose him, wouldn't you? Of course, your choice and the direction they correspond to may have absolutely nothing to do with each other. I already have two leads, so I can always ask Miss __Wedy__ to check the forested areas, both east of south __of__ my headquarters. I was simply making a decision as to which one I would order her to inspect first – kind of like tossing a coin, but much more fun, since Raito-kun was participating."_

_"…"_

_"Although, now that I see how tense you are, my hunch about the notebook being east of my headquarters, towards the largest and most visible tree, might be correct. I will, of course, have to look into that."_

**

* * *

**It had started with a normal phone call from Mr. Hunde. L had left Misa's room after his talk with her, and using the elevators, he arrived at the second sub-basement in less than five minutes. 

The doctor was in front of the door when he pulled up in his wheelchair. He was smoking.

"Hello, Mr. Hunde. What exactly are you doing?"

The man dragged in deeply from the cigarette between his yellow-stained fingertips. L wrinkled his nose. He could tell the other had been smoking out here in the corridor for some time now; the acrid smell of cigarettes was so strong that he could practically taste it in the air.

"Would you put out your cigarette, doctor?"

The man plucked the stick of tobacco out of his mouth. He flicked ash from the tip and it landed on the similarly painted floors, blending in and disappearing into a light-colored smudge. Hunde tucked the cigarette back between his lips, and L opened his mouth to say something, but a loud noise from inside stopped him.

L turned his head towards the paint-chipped door, the brownish rust peeking through at him from where the black stopped. Noise from behind closed doors was never a problem, but this part of the floor was older than the rest. Here, the soundproofing was non-existent and the walls were in bad need of a rollover brush.

It had been a long time since L had used these facilities, so wear was expected, especially when he would rather forget the existence of this building and the reason for its being. He had come to Russia many times before, but always opted to stay in fancy hotels in the crown din of the urban sprawl.

St. Petersburg was more than a hundred islands set into ice, like tiny emeralds inlayed in hard and worn-out silver plates, so it was easy to find a place just out of the commercial and historical centers, but still close enough where from his window L could spot across the gray bay monuments of the past, a lavish domed-cathedral breaking the sullen skyline or a palace sprawling down the green coast.

It was like a different world on the other side of that bridge. However much it down-poured in the cities -- where people bustled around noisily on red-bricked boulevards, colored umbrellas in tow -- it was never as wretched as when it rained over this seemingly uninhabited island; the cold and dampness of the weather seemed to burrow right into your bones, turning the landscape around you into an even more sodden and depressing hue of gray.

L glanced over at the doctor. Accompanying the cigarette smoke in the air was tension, brought about by the next sound to issue forth from behind those doors. L felt his blood run cold and he was suddenly very aware of his heartbeat, straining against his chest, the rhythm slow but emphatic, like a door slamming shut in unexpected but well-timed moments.

L caught the doctor looking at him, probably noticing how tense he had become. The man off-handedly flicked more ash from his cigarette. He seemed to be observing him.

But all thoughts of that scrutinizing gaze vanished from L's mind as a familiar voice split the air around him. His heartbeat jarred into the cavity of his chest, resuming from there with a gradually faster pulse.

"Why is he screaming like that?"

The doctor answered him with a flick of the wrist, tossing his cigarette, and at the same time snuffing it out underfoot. He was still staring down at him with the same clinical appraisal.

"Before you ask me to move, know that Tailor's getting his answers right now. Remember, you paid us to torture this boy, _not _hold his hand."

The screams behind the door suddenly died out, leaving behind a silence that was as terrifying, if more. There was a calm knock, one that sounded terribly out of place for all its familiarity. Hunde turned on his heel and opened the door, L following behind, his dark eyes locking onto the rectangle of glass that was the window into Raito's cell.

And at the bottom, right-hand corner of the mirror, nearly out of sight, but distinguishing itself in the dusty light bouncing off the reflective surface, there was blood…

Tailor walked out of the room with a scalpel.

"Here's your location. I wrote it down." He tossed a piece of paper at him, bloody fingerprint smudges all over it. "I don't know what's going on here exactly, but he's Kira, so he needs to be dealt with properly. He's dangerous and he shouldn't be allowed to live this long, so you should arrange for his execution -- and _soon_." Looking down at the scalpel in his hand, the ex-soldier added impassively, "We did our job, so after Hunde finishes, we're leaving."

L bent over to pick up the piece of paper that had floated to the floor, and resettling himself back in his chair, he glanced down at contents of the note.

"Yes, I think that would be for the best."

**…………………………**

He sat outside the open shower-room. Doctor Hunde was leaning on a wall, away from the spray and silently guarding Raito, who was sitting directly under the stream of water, his legs pulled up to his chest as he huddled over his knees.

From where L sat, Raito's back was facing him. He could see the two deep gashes on either side of his spine, each one sloping up and away from the line of demarcation that was his vertebrae column. They were precisely cut so they matched the other, the flesh, livid pink, as blood was washed away to trail down the rest of his perfectly unmarred skin.

L stared and stared at it. There was a twisting in his gut as he took in the shape of the cut, as past conversations played out in his head, former off-hand comments that he had made towards Raito in his cell; stupid, little pet names that he had never thought twice about, not caring if anyone heard him through the audio devices.

If L had known this was going to happen as a result, he would have kept them to himself; he wouldn't have occassionally called Raito "angel-kun" in front of the two interrogators and given Tailor the necessary psychological ammo to use against him.

He also would have never kept it to himself that he had already sent someone after the notebook two days ago, despite having known for a week, or being confident about his deduction from what Raito had told him in his stupor. _'But it would not hurt to send Miss __Wedy__ to check it out in__ advance__,'_he had thought. And then,_ 'what need was there to alert the other two?__' _

_'__No__,' _he had thought,_'__he didn't have to alert them at all…__'_

L stared at the two slashes on Raito's back and thought it was a mockery. It was a mockery of Raito.

It was a mockery of him.

It was a mockery of his justice.

The black oxfords the doctor wore clicked effortlessly on the tile floor. L's gaze slid over as the man walked out of the showroom's entrance, taking a position next to him.

"I don't take it lightly when a prisoner does whatever he wants and gets away with it, and as you can see my partner certainly has no patience for it either." Mr. Hunde fixed L with a firm look. "I also think it would be best to break our contract now. I was always under the impression that L was a complete professional, certainly to have arrived in the position he has –_ however_, what I saw in the hallway today… that was not the face of someone I would trust with my financial future. To tell you the truth, I am having significant doubts as to whether you are, in fact, who you say you are."

"Watari will be coming down soon," L said to the doctor. There was no hint of any emotion in his voice, but from what he said, it was not hard to understand that the doctor's presence was no longer needed, or wanted, for that matter.

"Of course," the man agreed. He took a step away, but his eyes came back to rest on L. "Not meant as an insult, but…you look terrible. My advice to you as a doctor, finish up your business here and go properly recuperate from your injuries."

L did not watch him leave, his attention had long returned to Raito on the other side of the room. The shower was still on, droning away as falling water did. He went to shut it off and Raito did not move one inch, his head still resting on his knees, his arms wound tightly around them.

L grabbed the towel draped over a metal bar.

"Get up."

Raito was shaking, whether from anger or some other emotion that could grip his heart as tightly, it was hard for him to tell with his face hidden away. The two slashes on his upper back were bleeding again, the blood mixing with water droplets that clung to his skin, diluting it and sliding down in pink trails.

L proffered the towel. "Take it."

_"God damn you…"_

L could hear the rawness in his voice, the scrape of overused vocal cords that was not at place in the always smooth tone that Raito spoke with. "What do you want now…?" and shaky, unbearably so, as any leaf on a tree would tremble when the wind turned.

"I want you to take this."

Raito looked up, his eyes were red-rimmed, but there was no trace of sadness, nor any suggestion that tears could even fall from them. Anger, as honest and sincere as it could be was staring back at him. Raito looked as hateful, as bitter, and as angry as L had ever seen him. His eyes had gone that fierce amber color that was more golden than the usual cold bronze, and that made his skin and hair stand out that much more. In this stark room, where the light played no tricks and everything was magnified, it was almost too much to bear looking directly at him.

"You know where it is. You _finally_ have what you wanted so badly." Raito had forgotten about their conversation last week. But that was not surprising, the drug was designed to clean up any mess it left behind, and as far as mess was concerned, memories were high on its priority.

"Here," L said, dropping the towel on Raito's legs. "Take it and cover –"

"I don't want the fucking towel, you idiot!" Raito cursed. He flung it the side. The sudden motion from him agitated his wounds, causing more blood to seep out. "Don't think I don't know what he carved into my back…!" Wincing from the flare-up of pain, Raito finally gave up and simply put his head back down, the tightening fingers in his hair showing how frustrated he was.

Remaining silent even after such an outburst, L went to pick up the abused cloth, briefly shaking it out. At the noise he was making Raito slowly looked up. His expression, weary and overcome, like it had taken all his strength and even more to shout at him.

_"You're going to kill me__."_ It's wasn't a question and the voice it was delivered in was far too weak for it be called a definite statement either.

L bent over and draped the towel on his shoulders regardless of where his wounds were. Blood quickly seeped through the white fabric in a close outline of a far-away bird in flight. "Watari will be here in a second. He will clean your wounds." L sat back in his wheelchair, navigating around to where the entrance was.

"Is that all you have to say to me?" Raito asked, disbelievingly. There was a small, humorless laugh in his voice as he asked that question.

"What else am I supposed to say?" L retorted, losing his temper a bit. "This is the bed of thorns that you have created with your _own _hands and now you must take responsibility and lie in it." Despite the confrontation in his words, L did not meet Raito's stare, and it was more than luke-warm reluctance that kept him from gazing back. It was weakness. He felt weak, cowardly; all his inner strength was leaving him, or was he only now starting to notice how depleted he was? Whatever the explanation for this feeling, L was certain of one thing and one thing only:

He could not face Raito now.

Pushing the rims on his wheelchair, L slowly moved out into the hallway. He could see Watari coming in the opposite direction, a black bag held in one hand. "Is something the matter?" Watari asked, stopping on his way, the wrinkles on his forehead deepening in concern.

"I'm going to rest for a while. Can you watch over him for me?" L rubbed above his eyes with the back of his hand, trying to ease whatever tension had built up behind them.

"Would you like me to help you to the elevator?"

Dismissively, "No, I'm fine, just go," he said, continuing on. The pulse in his head was expanding, moving further up his temple in a clench-and-unclench sensation. Getting on the elevator and getting off had further worsened it, and by the time L entered his room, he felt strangely nauseous.

He hadn't eaten anything this morning, forgoing sustenance to rest, then forgoing rest for monitoring Raito before going off to check up on Misa. His mouth felt and had that weighty feeling, the kind one would get when they knew they were about to throw-up.

Going for his desk instead of intelligently going towards the bathroom, L rested his head down on the cool wood and closed his eyes. His laptop was on; he could feel the warmth radiating from it, from the white glow of the monitor that displayed his screensaver.

L raised his hand to fold it close, to shut off that suddenly irritating light and heat from its source, but his fingers halted above the monitor. A chiming noise had made him peer one eye open to see the screen-saver gone and the message-icon flashing in the corner. Redirecting his hand towards the keyboard and clicking it open, he laid his head back down.

He was tired, but restless, a combination that made him feel that more drained. He had thought punctual medicine intake and naps would take the edge of this exhaustion. After all, sleep was the most important thing for his body to have while recuperating, and he was getting it. An adequate amount, he thought. But then again, L also knew he could sleep and take all the medicine he wanted, but it was not going to do anything for him psychologically.

Looking up at the screen again, L found the email open. The message was from Wedy and it was comprised of only one sentence:

**I found it.**

L sat up and stared at the screen, his headache worsening.

* * *

_Friday, March 11__, 3:56 pm_

**…………………………**

There was a shinigami in his doorway.

Holding Misa's retrieved notebook by the corners, L quietly stared at it.

"An apple, you got an apple?" the god of death asked, his eyes ravenous as they appraised the room for anything red and heart-shaped. When he was finished, he looked back at him, expectantly.

_"An apple?"_ L questioned, suddenly realizing something.

He let go off a small laugh.

"Hey buddy, people usually don't laugh when death is on their doorstep."

"Yes," L agreed, moving carefully towards the slouched figure in front of him. "But I have suddenly found out that _he _actually does possess a sense of humor -- albeit a twisted one." L put his hand out and smiled at the god of death.

"It is nice to meet you, Ryuuk."

**………………………**

"Thanks," Ryuuk said enthusiastically as L handed him an apple.

He watched him devour it in less than three bites, large white teeth flashing in the light before he closed his mouth. "You got no idea how much I needed that," the shinigami said, eyeballing the crate of apples that L had asked Watari to purchase. "Apples in the shinigami realm just aren't the same."

"Would you like another?" L asked, curiously watching eyes that mirrored and surpassed his own in size.

"Yeah, you don't look like you'd eat any so I'll take them for you."

L picked up another apple and held it out for him, inquiring as the fruit was plucked from his hands, "So you are Raito's shinigami?"

Ryuuk practically shoved the entire apple into his mouth, munching loudly, juice and tiny bits of it flying everywhere. "Huh? Oh yeah, I'm not really his, but you know…I gave him a notebook."

"You personally gave it to him?"

Ryuuk chuckled and L could not help but notice his odd laugh. "Well no…I just threw it down and waited for someone to pick it up."

L handed over another apple to keep the conversation going. He had read over the rules and it did not seem like a fair trade for any shinigami to lose a notebook to a human. "Why would you do such a thing?"

More of those odd "hyuks" escaped past that gaping mouth.

_"I was bored." _

L stared at the shinigami, astonished with an answer that he had received on more than one occasion from Raito. Regaining his wits, he looked down at his hand as it reached into the small wooden crate for another apple.

"Then Boredom has to certainly be the most frightening motivator in our universe." L gingerly placed the red fruit on his desk. "But I am having a hard time believing that it was unintentional that Raito was the one to come upon the notebook." It was too perfect in a way.

"Don't look at me," Ryuuk said, floating over to his desk. "I couldn't have guessed where stuff lands when dropped from the hole in the sky. It falls wherever it falls, you know…"

Good god, L thought. It was remarkable how one careless endeavor could cause so much disaster. How insignificant their lives were when one bored shinigami could have so much sway in their world.

"It was a good thing too," Ryuuk chuckled. He was picking up the apple from L's desk. "Eventually, everybody's scared away when they learn what it can do, but _heh_, he went right for it. All those people in one day, I was impressed…"

"Yes…Raito is special," L echoed. "Very special…" He could not help but think that without any of these events, these exact events, he would have never been able to meet Raito. They were from such different worlds that it wasn't possible for either one of them to have met in their lifetimes.

There was no doubt that Raito would have worked himself up to the highest position in the NPA or any other agency he saw fit to bless his presence with. But his true genius, and not the jaded intellect he used on a daily basis, would have been hidden away. The one that would place everything it had on the line to defend his beliefs, that would fight tooth and nail to get what he wanted when he deemed it worthy, and that needed to be continually tested so Raito knew he was alive.

Raito was a sociopath, yes, but as far as perfection went, there was no one closer.

"I might have to thank you, shinigami-san --"

"Huh?" Ryuuk said, a little bug-eyed.

"And curse you eternally," L finished with a smile.

"Uh, that's okay," the death god told him. "I don't really know anything about that…but you guys sure do know how to have a blast. Raito really knows how to have fun…giving me apples, letting me watch interesting stuff, playing Mario-cart with me," he recounted. "Humans really are the best." Chuckling deeply, he began to float towards the other end of the room. "But I don't plan on sticking around for too long, Raito's caught and my fun should be ending soon, so you know…"

"I doubt your fun will ever end," L told him.

"No, I get really bored when I have to go back to the shinigami realm." Ryuuk suddenly stopped, peering down at the floor. "So I should be getting out of here now – and I'll be taking what I came for."

"Hmm?" L asked, more alert than before. "And what would that be?"

**"Raito." **Chuckling some more as he caught the stunned look on L's face, Ryuuk dropped down to the floor, beginning to phase through it.

"WAIT!" L shouted, moving forward suddenly and trying to grab a hold of the shinigami's long, black arm. His hand passed right through it, but the motion seemed to get the death god's attention, and with half his body sticking up from the floor, Ryuuk turned to him. "What's up?"

"What do you mean by that?"

Ryuuk looked puzzled, then, "Oh, me and Raito have a contract. I'm the one that gets to write his name down in my deathnote when I think it's his time to go. That's pretty much it…so see ya –"

"Wait!" L called, but Ryuuk had already disappeared through the floor, his destination Raito's cell. Not giving it another thought, L practically flew out the room, moving towards the elevator. He nearly slammed into the doors trying to stop and frantically began pressing the button. "C'mon, c'mon." L reached into his back pocket –

The doors slid open and he quickly entered. He hit the speed dial for Watari's cellphone. "Pick up the phone," he mumbled and wished everything would just go faster.

_"Yes?" _

"Move Raito," L ordered, glancing up to check what floor he was on.

"Where would you --?"

"Just move him!" L shouted and compulsively pressed the button for basement floor. "I don't have time to explain myself, just move him as far as you can from his current cell." Accidentally dropping the phone when the doors chimed open, but not bothering to pick it up, L dashed out into the maze that was the second-basement floor.

Thankfully, as he finally came to the room, he saw Watari walking out the door with Raito, blind-folded and in handcuffs. When the older man looked to him for an explanation, L made a motion for him to continue moving on.

Ryuuk was in Raito's cell by the time L unlocked it, scratching his head and looking more than confused. "I could have sworn this was the place you put him in," he said comically, but which L was not laughing. He turned in his direction. "You made it down here pretty fast."

"Yes, I did," L told him, voice breathless, the anxiety of the moment more of a factor to his state than the trek in his wheelchair. Ryuuk gazed at him oddly, his gangly arms dangling down at his sides as if superfluous. He strode towards him, but L knew the shinigami was more interested in the door and phasing through it.

"Wait," L said, trying to stay calm.

"You keep saying that," Ryuuk pointed out.

"That's because I wish to speak to you." L knew how dangerous it was to try and reason with this shinigami. He did not seem partial to anyone but himself and his boredom. He could very well write L's name down in his notebook and no repercussions would take place, not like they would have for Rem. This in front of him. This was what an actual shinigami was supposed to be like. A true god of death.

And L was doing something very stupid and standing in his way. "I have to be truthful. You say you've come down here to take Raito's life, but it seems unfair that I've worked on this case to the bitter end, and yet I'm denied what I set out to do."

"Unfair? That's interesting," Ryuuk chuckled. "But what does that have to do with me?"

"Shinigami-san, you are stealing my thunder," L explained simply. "You might not see it that way – as I doubt you care to understand the human ego –"

"Not one bit," Ryuuk answered, pulling out his deathnote, and looking up at him. A wide grin suddenly stretched across the god's face. "Heh. Don't tell me you believed him. Raito says that 'I love you' business to everyone he uses."

L flinched.

"You shouldn't take it personal, buddy. He likes to use 'the destiny' one a lot too. Used that one a bunch of times on all his girlfriends. I thought you were supposed to be smarter, eh? I guess humans really are a sucker for that love word." More of those deep-throated cackles erupted from the shinigami. "He really had you eating out of his palm there. I didn't think Raito could pull it off, but that should teach me to doubt him."

L felt suddenly irritated; this shinigami was proving to be as obnoxious as his past owner. But it would not do to let it outwardly affect him, especially when he had more important things to discuss.

"Yes, but whatever may be going on between Raito and me, my pride as a detective, and admittedly as a man, should always come first. My dignity, as well as my sanity, depends on how I choose to resolve this investigation. Therefore, I do not enjoy having my opinions overridden as you are currently going to do with that notebook of yours."

Ryuuk looked down at the deathnote in his hands and then back at L.

"I feel that since I have devoted my full time and effort, and many other things towards this case for almost a year and a half now, that I am entitled to a conclusion that is completely satisfactory to me. Not to anyone else, certainly not to _you_," L said boldly. Ryuuk chuckled at that – this was the second time he had been told off by someone, and it never ceased to amuse him that a human, knowing exactly what he was and how easy it was to kill him, could still drum up the presence to be rude.

"What I want is for Raito to be tried and punished by _human_ means. Even though it would satisfy a sense of overall irony for the notebook to be used on him, I do not see it as the right, just, _human _thing to do. If Raito must go, the electric chair or lethal injection will do, not some bored shinigami with a supernatural notebook. I have chased after Raito and I have finally caught him, and as such, I strongly feel that his life now belongs to me – as does his _death_."

"Human lives belonging to other humans," Ryuuk chuckled. "You guys are nothing but fodder for us…"

"Yes, I am well-aware of how insignificant my life is to your kind, but all I ask is for you to hear me out."

"Hear you out? You got more in there?" Floating closer, Ryuuk bowed his face towards him, eyes searing into his own. "Something interesting…?" he asked, still moving ever closer.

"If you are willing to listen…"

* * *

**A/n: **I find it quaint that they're arguing over who gets first dibs to kill Raito. You see how popular he is. You know, I love it how deathnote time-skips (they'd have to since it's a short manga) I just find it funny how one moment you're in 2004, and in the next panel your in 2009 and watching Raito run around in a business suit and being all sexy double-agent guy… Wow, where'd that come from…? 

**1.** **Paradise Lost** – a 17th century epic poem by John Milton following the protagonist, archangel Lucifer, as he rebels against heaven, is banished to Hell with the other fallen angels, and then decides to take his vengeance out on God's creations, Adam and Eve, by getting their asses thrown out of Eden. I recommend reading the novel versionby Joseph Lanzara, as it's a helluva lot easier :) The quotes below are all from the Novel:

**a.** _"Oh most precious of all trees in Paradise, worthy of highest praise, henceforth often shall I ease the burden of your branches, fill on your diet I grow mature in knowledge, as a god who knows all things…"_ – Eve says this right before she eats the apple. In the novel, she's tempted by the ideas that Satan puts in her head that if she eats from the tree of knowledge she will transform into a God and she will be smarter and better than Adam, therefore drawing more of his admiration. She also appears to be intrigued with flight and is pretty confident of herself. Hmm, sounds like someone we know…

**b.** _"Adam shall share with me, whether in bliss or woe. So dear I love him that with him all deaths I could endure, without him, live no life."_ - Eve

**c.** _"Do you see in me a corpse, Adam, for such grief your words and face express? Yet I feel twice alive and awake as before. Or can it be that already I transcend to levels above man's low perception."__ –_ Eve, she says this after Adam laments out loud over her sin. Again, all she's thinking about is if she's become a God yet.

**d.** _"With unrelenting pride and steadfast hate, though in pain, to his battered partner hoarsely he proclaimed: Neither for this, nor for what else his powerful rage can inflict, will I repent or change! Though outwardly I may be changed, not so in my fixed mind, nor my disdain, or sense of injustice which raised me __to contend with the mightiest." _Lucifer, now Satan, says this after he's thrown from Heaven and wakes up in the fiery pits of Hell. He's cursing God.

**2.**** Prince of East –** One of the four princes of Hell in the Satanic Bible. It's another name for Lucifer, who represents air, light, intellectualism and enlightenment. You see where I'm going with this allusion too…

**3.** **Prince of South – **Satan. The other princes are Belial of North and Earth, and Leviathan of West and Water.


	19. The Three Faces of Man

The door creaked open unusually loud when L walked into his cell. Raito kept his eyes on the floor so the first thing he saw was the wheels of the chair rolling on in slow revolution, L's pale feet confined to each foot-pedal, and the threadbare ends of his jeans.

As L bent over, his knees were next to come into view. One white-knuckled hand was bracing against the concrete floor as he leaned forward even more, the lower portion of L's face now in his line of sight, and close as they were, everything above his nose was excluded.

L's mouth was a severe line, stiff and pulled back, and unlike how he typically arranged them, pursing his lips together to rest his thumb calmly on the shelf they created, this one successfully exuded grim intentions.

Raito felt L run something through his hair, the motion startling him out of his daze, but not moving him to react as violently as he should have; the bandaged gashes on his back throbbing hotly in reminder. But the pain was set aside as Raito found that another shadow had suddenly fallen over him, this one much larger than L's, abysmally black, and red-eyed!

"Hey buddy," the god of death greeted; fanged mouth wide-open in a grin that was practically covering his entire face. "You don't look so good."

Raito's eyes flew wide open. He immediately pushed himself up from the floor, trying to get a better look at the dark figure looming over him.

"Ryuuk…!"

"I missed you too," the shinigami cackled.

Raito glanced over at L before warily fixing his eyes back on the death god. "What is this?" he asked suddenly, suspiciously, the question clearly not directed towards Ryuuk but addressing him, and instead aimed at the detective.

"He wished to see you, and I have no say in what goes on between a shinigami and the human he first possesses. Therefore, attempting to separate you two would do me no good."

"Your boyfriend's smart," Ryuuk said, chuckling, and Raito glanced over at shinigami acidly, the strength of his glare, despite months of captivity, having not diminished one bit. "You don't have to get mad at me," the god of death reasoned, putting his hands up as if to defend himself. He forgot how scary Raito was when he got pissed.

Thankfully, that callous stare did not continue to bore into his head, and Raito turned its harshness on the detective. "You know damn well what I mean," he spat out. "What the hell is this? You come down here with Ryuuk like it's the most natural thing in the world. You have to realize that he not on your side – he's not on anyone's side…"

"He's right too," Ryuuk agreed. "Taking sides would get me killed – plus, it wouldn't be half as much fun as what's been planned." The shinigami's face split into one of those eerie grins. "Tell him already, I want to see how he gets himself out of this one."

_Tell him what…?_ Raito thought.

He felt a chill run down his spine at the sight of L and Ryuuk, side-by-side, both staring at him intensely. To see his arch-nemesis and the only thing that he had ever truly confided in, to see them standing side-by-side, actually aware of each other and solely focused on him…it was wrong. They were never supposed to meet each other. This was never supposed to happen.

The sound of metal wheels scraping against the floor made him glance up to see L coming even closer, his eyes assessing him coldly as he halted in front of him. There was a lengthy pause, a few loud heartbeats in between the waiting before L said:

"I want you to make the trade with Ryuuk."

Raito stared up at the detective and thought he hadn't heard him right.

"I do not want to have to repeat myself," L enunciated, "make the deal with Ryuuk for the shinigami eyes. It is the only way to keep you alive for now, so make the deal."

Raito continued to stare at L. Stunned, uncertain, angry… "Are you out of your mind?!" he suddenly shouted. "To even ask –"

L raised his hand to cut him off. "This is not up to you -- either you give Ryuuk half your current lifespan or he takes the entire thing from you. Die today by your shinigami or die a few days from now by lethal injection – those are the only choices left to you."

Raito's eyes widened; brown irises going wild in their paper-white sockets. He turned towards the death god furiously. "You bastard, you're on his side. Why are you taking his side? I can't believe you're betraying me for a few measly apples!"

"It was more like a crate," Ryuuk corrected, shrugging noncommittally. "Sorry buddy, but this got nothing to do with your friend over there. You're the one that actually gave me the permission to write your name down in my notebook when things started to turn south, so if you got to blame someone, blame yourself."

"I would – I would _never!_" Raito stressed. "I've never given you the permission to do something so _stupid_, so utterly _ridiculous_! I thought you'd be on my side. I trusted you to –" Raito felt his voice giving out, "I trusted you!"

L said nothing, simply looking on.

"Yeah, but you still used my notebook. Smart guy like you should know what that means. In return for lending you my deathnote you have to give me something too, but shinigami only really want one thing from humans." Those blood-red eyes began glowing menacingly, and horror that was partly suppressed began to creep into Raito's visage.

"I've come to take life, so give me some," Ryuuk cackled, putting his hand forth as if he were begging for apples. By the look on his face, it was practically the same thing to him. "C'mon buddy, I've always wanted to make the trade with you, but you've always been so stuck-up about it."

Raito had both fists planted into the ground. "No…" His knuckles were turning white under the pressure of his body as it braced him up from the floor. "I won't. I won't make the deal with you…with anyone…"

Ryuuk's shoulders sagged, gangly arms nearly touching the ground. He turned to look at L. "It's not interesting if he won't play along. I guess this is where my fun ends," he sighed, beginning to take out his notebook, big eyes glued to the pages, and missing the expression of wild horror on Raito's face.

"Raito," L said warningly, as he noticed that expressive fear, "He will kill you without a second thought if you do not appease him."

"Don't!" Raito shouted towards Ryuuk, his entire focus now on the notebook. It didn't seem like he could even hear L anymore. "Don't do this. Just give me time – you don't want to go back to the shinigami realm, right? It's boring. Neither of us wants to be bored. Please get me out of here, Ryuuk."

L felt that cold fury that only Raito knew how to incite within him.

"Can't do that without payment," Ryuuk drawled. He casually took his pen out of its hiding place.

"Yes, you can. You can do anything!" Raito's nails were leaving scratch marks on the floor. Deep down inside, he knew -- Raito knew he could beg, and plead, and scream, and pray to this god of death, but like any other god he would turn deaf ears to him. He would abandon him.

"Don't," Raito said feebly, harshly, voice grating more than it wanted to.

He turned to L on the verge of cursing his existence and falling down in front of him.

It was like giving up on everything he believed in, in everything he had ever fought for. If he made the trade, it would be as good as accepting that L had won, that he was resigned to his sentence.

"I won't make the trade, I can't make it!"

"Then he kills you." L was staring down at him blankly; those dark eyes empty, bleak like winter and harsher. "Hurry up and make a decision."

"No!" Raito shouted in a burst of fury that fizzled out past the first word. "It's half my life. Half my life," he pleaded.

"Exactly," L said. "I want your death on my terms, and no one, not even a shinigami will take that away from me. However, if you would rather die now than later, then there is nothing I can do for you."

"No…" Raito sobbed. He grasped onto the leg of L's jeans, turning his face up, desperation and a survival instinct that was half-madness, half-logic, clouding the amber slits in his eyes. His other hand suddenly reached up and he grabbed L by the front of his shirt, halting the breath mid-way through the detective's lungs.

"Do. Something" he ground out dangerously, elegant fingers twisted in the neckline of L's white t-shirt. "I'll do anything; just don't make me do the eye-trade, don't let him kill me…"

Ryuuk cackled at the absolutely tormented expression on the boy's face. "This ain't like you at all, buddy."

L stared calmly into those frantic eyes. "I cannot help you," he stated. "Out of all those you have killed, if just one of them had come to you and begged for life, would you have spared them? I doubt it."

He tried to pry his fingers from his person, a great need for space calling out to him. "I see this as the only way to successfully punish someone who cannot feel regret, who cannot feel sympathy for anyone but himself. I have taken away your freedom, I have let your body and pride be attacked, but as important as they are, I see they are not what is most precious to you."

"The only way to convey the severity of your crimes -- all the atrocities you have committed on humanity, for pride, for boredom, for love of yourself – is to force you to face the one thing you have shouldered onto others; the one thing you have been running from. You value your life above everything else; therefore I will cut it down in front of you and show you just how much of a human you are."

"Goddammit L," Raito cursed, tightening his fingers in his shirt. He grabbed him by the other hand. "I don't give a fuck about your reasons -- just get me the hell out of this!"

L set his jaw, grabbing onto his wrist. "Still so selfish…it is hard to believe that the world does not actually revolve around you when you speak with such intensity."

"Please," Raito said, "I'm begging you now." That grip tightened and L felt the tremors raking through him.

"No, I cannot help you. I _will _not help you. Make your choice."

Raito grew furious, one of his hands suddenly moving on its own and slapping L across the face. "You son of a bitch, I should have shot you in head when I had the chance."

"Ohhohoho," Ryuuk chuckled. Despite the high emotions, he seemed to be having a blast.

L slapped him right back. "And I should have killed you the moment I laid eyes on you. Now hurry and make your choice or your shinigami will write your name down."

Ryuuk seemed to have forgotten all about the notebook in his hands, as he watched the two leading men of this collapsing drama that had been built up to unquestionable height through their sheer determination to thwart the other.

It was almost too much. To have been here to witness the whole gamut of emotions that had led up to this exact moment: all the pretentiousness, the lying, the hate, the pride. These petty, petty feelings that seemed only exclusive to the human species; each struggling over their principles and their abstract concepts that in the end really had no definite answers, nor ever would.

But Ryuuk supposed this was what humans were good for: Putting on a great show.

And these two here in front of him, they were the quintessential actors, representing humanity through their small-scale war. To live, one had to triumph over the other -- and Ryuuk laughed at how out of hand everything had gotten for Raito and his detective friend.

Humans, what a riot.

Letting go of L spitefully, Raito drew back as if he were a snake that had lost the power to successfully bite.

It was obvious, painfully obvious what his choice would have to be. The decision had already been made for him. He couldn't let Ryuuk write his name down in his deathnote. He had to stay alive -- hopelessly as was case, because time was always going to be his most valued asset.

"I…" Raito took a sobbing breath, seeming to choke on his words.

Ryuuk was poised like a vulture ready to swoop down, anticipation actually creeping into his dusty body.

"I…make the trade…" he finally uttered, the words echoing through the room.

Stretching a clawed-hand towards him, Raito's eyes immediately flew open, crimson encircling the pupils as a gasp fell from his parted lips. His vision now tinged a haze of red.

Raito wiped at his eyes as if it was a simple matter of getting the blood out of them. He could feel everything magnified, even when he closed them. There was a powerful pull at the back of his sockets that wanted to keep them open, trained, alert…

He could hear Ryuuk laughing, cackling on like a crow.

Panic was making his eyes blurrier, eyesight fumbling around the room until it finally descended upon L and the name that had eluded him until now.

"You're name is…L Lawliet?"

"Um…you actually pronounce it 'lowlight'," the detective corrected, somewhat awkwardly.

Raito stared at the L, really looked at him. "You pronounce it…what?"

The cackling laughter of Ryuuk only grew louder.

"The pronunciation is 'low-light' not 'law-li-et.'"

"Low-light?" Raito said, numbly.

The irony made him want to cry. It actually made him want to sit there, put his head in his hands, and sob in frustration. It was one thing to know that his enemy had tricked him so completely that he believed 'L' was a false name. But it was another thing entirely when part of his last name had been practically staring him in the face. L's fondness for calling him 'Raito-kun' every chance he got. It was like – it was like…he'd been mocking him this entire time…

Raito felt sick. "How could that be…?"

"I thought it was funny too," Ryuuk interrupted. "I wanted to tell you so you could be in on the joke too, but it was way more hilarious watching you try to figure it out. Heh, but that's not even the funniest thing about all of this," the god chuckled. "I'm surprised you didn't notice yet. His lifespan, I mean…"

Lifespan…?

Obviously, Raito had immediately noticed that L's lifespan was not there. But it was clear why that was since he was currently the owner of Misa's retrieved deathnote. Ryuuk knew he would come to that conclusion, so then why in the world would he ask him about…

Raito froze. "…why can't I see your lifespan?" He suddenly needed to hear the answer from L, even if it was becoming clear. "Why can't I see your lifespan?" Raito demanded.

"The same reason I cannot see yours," L said quietly.

Raito's eyes widened. "What did you do…?"

"I suppose something similar to what Faust did with Mephistopheles." It was for a second, but Raito could see his eyes flash red. He stared in shock as those large, liquid black pupils lit up, glowing blood red in the darkness.

"You did not think your life would be enough to compensate him, did you?" L asked, scarlet eyes staring back at him. "He wants the full years of one human being; by agreeing to the trade you only make up half of his requirement…therefore I offered the other half as payment, collateral if you will, to insure that I, by contract, own the rest of your current life."

"You…" Raito felt his stomach seize up.

"I have also given him permission to take the rest of my life when I am done with you, as further payment. However, your shinigami does not seem to care one bit about the life we are giving him. His only concern appears to be with the idea of further playing with us."

The laughter on the other side of the room was deafening. "I didn't think I'd ever get to make the trade with you, buddy, but I never even considered it for your friend there. Heh, I could probably go up to the shinigami realm and brag about collecting life from the two humans that played hostage with the world. You guys are famous up in the shinigami realm, you know…"

Raito could no longer hear the mocking replies coming from the god of death.

"I do not understand why you seem so shocked," L replied, noticing his state. "I have only done what I've always been doing ever since I started this investigation. What makes you think I would stop here? Indeed, throwing away one's life is foolish, but when there is a strong cause to back it up –"

"You're insane…" Raito breathed. He felt so disorientated. Knowing that he had halved his own life and that he could never get it back, however hard he tried, was too depressing a thought, but knowing that his enemy had halved his own life for reasons of wanting so badly to conclude this case on his own terms, to be the one to finally finish him off and win their battle -- that was even more depressing.

"I would give up much more to bring you to justice. That is just how strongly I feel about this case -- and about you." Turning his wheelchair towards the door and halting in front of it, L looked back at him.

"The next time we see each other I will be bringing news about your execution. My only request of you until that time is for you to truly contemplate on your life and your sins, and any last words you may have. I suggest you think long and hard about what you have to say, Raito."

**………………………………..**

He had quietly returned to his room alone.

Watari was waiting for him when he arrived, and as L passed him on his way to the desk, he requested something to eat, to which the older man brought shortly thereafter a silver tray of strawberry cheesecake and milk tea.

L stared at it; his lost appetite not returning despite trying to forcibly will it into existence. Massaging the bridge of his nose with his index and middle finger, L stared at his comfort food, but after another futile attempt at making himself hungry, he gave up, eyes beginning to roam around his desk.

He noticed within the blank screen of his laptop there was a reflection of himself, one that did not look too happy to see him, and trailing his fingers over the keyboard he made an effort to ignore everything, including the person standing next to him.

When Watari did not get the hint, L suddenly felt immensely annoyed, his fingers unconsciously pressing down harder on the keyboard.

"Can you leave me alone for awhile?" he said abruptly. He continued to focus on his laptop, maintaining the distance that his head was calling out for. The budding tension in the back of his neck was deepening with each passing second as he sat motionless in front of his laptop, staring at a reflection that was as blank as the monotone surface that had captured it.

Watari continued to stand by him after a few tense minutes, but inevitably his shoes began to clip towards the door, shutting it behind him with a semi-muted click.

And in the incoming silence, L could hear himself breathing rapidly, loudly, taking in even deeper breaths and letting those inhalations measure out time for him.

It so happened that the tray that should have been right in front of him was now on the floor along with his now upside down cheesecake and milk tea that was no longer in the cup because it was broken. So was his laptop – smashed to pieces, black keys scattered over the floor, and the screen imprinted with a large white blotch in the center, from where it had impacted with the floor.

And L supposed somewhere down the line it was alright to cry because he had restrained himself for a pretty long time with the walk up here and then the request for the tea tray that was now upside down.

He couldn't remember the last time he had cried, if ever, other than a time early in his life when he was suddenly struck by the fact that he was an orphan and there was no one coming for him.

He cried for numerous reasons, but mainly for the fact that he had fallen in love with a person who he could not have. He cried for frustration, because he was tired, because this case had immeasurably fucked up his life and just because he was sad.

There were apparently many things to cry about, but it didn't take very long. He supposed he simply needed that moment to compose himself and figure out what he wanted to do next.

**

* * *

****March 28, 2005.**

It was a beautiful day in Japan.

The sun was warm but not an over-powering presence in the sky; there was hardly a cloud, only wisps of white traced upon an immense blueness, and the breeze was as gentle as a mother's hand.

Lines of people all dressed in black and varying shades of white stood in front of a closed casket, the polished black veneer reflecting the somber faces of the mourners as each stepped up to the coffin and placed down a white lily or a blue iris.

Yagami Soichirou was seated three rows away from the casket. He was staring silently at his wife as she sat to the front in one of the black folding chairs, calmly attempting to take on the responsibility of listening to fellow mourners as they passed by and gave condolences to the family.

There was not a tear in her eye as she sat poised in her seat, gentle mannerisms and gracious acceptance of heartfelt bows from teachers who had once taught her son, to the many, many young men and women who had graduated in the same class.

Sachiko had always been a proud woman who could not cry in front of others, not even in front of her husband or children. But the quiet desperation in her doe-brown eyes, the stiff way she was holding her lip and her own bowed head, they were enough to show a mother's agony. Even through the dignified manner she carried herself, it was not hard to see that she would quietly cry herself into depression once the ceremony and her responsibilities were done with.

Sayu was seated next to him, his precious daughter and now only child. She was crying into her hands so as to not make too much noise, a reflex after seeing how her mother was handling the crowd. She had started weeping since the ceremony had started, and to its near end the tears had not stopped or even abated.

The investigation team was seated in the far back, and the last time he had glanced over at them he had seen Matsuda crying, the rest quietly staring forward.

He had once thought that he would quit the NPA once his son was proven to be innocent, and yet, here laid Raito, as innocent as the day he was born, and Soichirou had no thoughts of ever stopping in his pursuit to catch Kira. He knew the men behind him would agree whole-heartedly with his choice, would have agreed to continue even if he had given up.

But his son, his precious son…how could he ever forgive himself for letting this happen to him? How could he ever go on living with his continuous failures, as the chief of police and more importantly as a father?

Soichirou looked at his wife and his daughter, and begged their forgiveness for not bringing Raito back home. He looked straight ahead at the black casket, white and blue flowers overflowing from the top, and also desperately prayed that one day he would be forgiven for failing his son, failing him so miserably…

_**

* * *

**_

**_THE EMPEROR OF THE WOEFUL REALM FROM HIS MIDBREAST ISSUED FORTH FROM THE ICE_ **

**_IF HE WAS AS FAIR AS HE NOW IS FOUL AND AGAINST HIS MAKER LIFTED UP HIS BROW_ **

**_SURELY MAY ALL TRIBULATION PROCEED FROM HIM._ **

**_OH HOW GREAT A MARVEL IT SEEMED TO ME, WHEN I SAW THREE FACES ON HIS HEAD!_ **

**_BENEATH EACH CAME FORTH TWO GREAT WINGS, OF SIZE BIFITTING SO HUGE A BIRD._ **

**_WITH SIX EYES HE WAS WEEPING_ **

**_WITH EACH MOUTH HE WAS CRUSHING A SINNER WITH HIS TEETH,_ **

**_SO THAT HE THUS WAS MAKING THREE OF THEM WOEFUL._ **

**_"THAT SOUL UP THERE WHICH HAS THE GREATEST PUNISHMENT," SAID THE MASTER,_ **

_**"IS JUDAS ISCARIOT."**_

L had left the safety of his room for Raito's cell at dusk on the twenty-eighth.

The arrangements had been made, and this was to be the last meeting he would ever have with Kira.

When he opened the door, he found Raito lying on the floor, eyes partially open and one of his arms flung out to the side, the other cradling his stomach. He was as pale as if death had already claimed him.

"Raito," L called, as he approached, metal wheels scratching on the cement-gray floor. "Is this how you choose to regret your crimes?"

Raito's eyelids flickered, wine-red pupils obscured by the moisture caught on his light-colored eyelashes.

"I regret nothing," he whispered hoarsely. "I've never done anything to which I need to regret. I was saving mankind, and now you've doomed them all again."

L abruptly stopped in his wheelchair. "Then I will apologize for my behavior. I did not realize I was dooming an entire population of people when I caught you. Maybe that will teach me," L sarcastically replied, trying not to raise his voice when he spoke next. "It disappoints me that you cannot stop deluding yourself for one moment and try to put this in perspective. All I asked was for you to show some compassion, some sympathy for the countless you have wronged – and still, you cannot even accomplish that feat in your last hour of life."

"I have nothing to regret," Raito repeated more forcibly, like a record-player stuck on loop. "Absolutely nothing. I used my intelligence for something that no one else could pull off. That's what brains are for: you use it to do something that no one else would even dream of. You use it to revolutionize, to make better, and anything else is a total wast --"

"Do not talk to me about waste when you have thrown your life away," L snapped. "It is a misuse of human resource -- of human intelligence what you have done." He shook his head, disappointed. "You are so intelligent and yet this is what you use your aptitude for. Do you even understand how many would kill to have the things you have? How many would love to be smart, and good-looking, and have a wonderful family -- to have endless possibilities open to them, anything they wanted because they were so young and so immensely talented…?"

Raito opened his mouth and L cut him off. "You had everything, and yet it was still not enough. I would ask what was wrong with you, but I am too busy marveling at how you royally screwed up such a picturesque life."

L could plainly see the anger etched out onto Raito's once impartial features. "What's wrong with me?" he spat out. "How can you even say those things to me when you're doing the same thing?"

"You do whatever the hell you want, never stopping to answer to anyone. You just travel around the world, solving case after case for fun. Not caring if you hurt anyone in the process. The only thing you ever cared about in your life was being considered the greatest detective. You even have aliases to make yourself look better. What is that? Can you honestly tell me that anything else even holds a candle?"

"It's the same with me," he said, sincerity making his voice urgent. "Friends, family, lovers – what does it matter when you find something that makes you so happy and satisfied that you can't stand to do anything else. I've found my calling. I won't be happy doing anything else, and I know you wouldn't be happy being anything but a detective."

"Yes, I am proud of being a detective," L agreed. "But sadly, I have discovered that my happiness no longer is solely dependent on my work. I can devote myself to a principle as much as I want, but the time will come when I die and any contributions I've made will disappear, be replaced, or remembered, but remembered for one facet of what it was."

"Let me ask you a question -- what do you think would have happened if you had succeeded? You would have judged humanity for the rest of your life -- but then what? When you die, you would pass the power on and see it corrupted by someone who did not understand your principles. Your utopia could never last forever, because you cannot live forever. You can hope that everyone remembers what it was like when you were alive, but there will be a time when this will only be memory in the past, a bunch of unfortunate events that led to nothing."

"You will die one day Raito," L solemnly concluded, "but crime and human baseness will remain. What you were doing – it was useless."

Raito stared at him, and the look on his face was depressed, heartbroken, as if his ideologies were not things, but humans in which he could fall in love with and be discarded for at any time. "Shut up," he said miserably. "You have no idea…no idea. I don't care about any of that. I have only one life to live and I don't care what happens after it. I just…I just wanted to be God. I wanted to be God." There were tears in his eyes, and they would have to be genuine, because Raito's only wish in life had been to become the moralistic god of a world created from his ideals. He cared for nothing else, loved nothing else like his beliefs, and for someone, specifically for L to attack them, to say they were useless, contorted things when he was already at his emotional precipice, that must have hurt Raito more than he'd ever been in his life.

"There's no such thing as heaven or hell," he said, distressed, wounded. "I don't want to live in a world where criminals die and are left unpunished. I don't want that. If there's no heaven and hell then why not create them on earth before it's too late. Why not punish the sinners and reward the good people…"

Essentially, Raito was altruistic. He didn't care about money or fame. He wanted to help people within his own definition of the word. However, that didn't stop him from being so delusional, so much so that L felt sorry for him. A little corner of him actually pitied Raito, while the rest knew that this person in front of him didn't need an ounce of human sympathy, didn't deserve it, because of how frighteningly capable he was.

L could not help but think what a waste it was. Raito was so brilliant and he would have to turn around and snuff out that brilliance. It depressed him to ponder about all the untapped potential within this one human being. It saddened him, worst it infuriated him.

"Why did you have to betray me?" L asked, not caring how stupid it might sound. He really shouldn't have been so bitter towards Raito. After all, he had always been suspicious of him. It was the very reason he had wanted to get closer to him -- or the majority of it anyway. The possibility of Raito being Kira had always been high, more than high, to him it was assured. Even without a smidgen of proof, even with the accumulation of evidence that continuously said Raito was innocent, there was no one more appropriate to L, more suitable for the role of evil genius.

At some point he'd stopped thinking about Raito's innocence in terms of cold hard facts and had simply given him the title of Kira, the high respect of an enemy of this caliber. To him, no one was good enough, or smart enough, or perfect enough for the title – but Raito. He was different.

And still, it had surprised him when Raito had smiled at him so maliciously in the church. It was a foolish thing to think about this investigation in terms of betrayal and revenge – but L wouldn't have considered it unfaithfulness if Raito had killed him without dragging his feelings into this. If Raito had murdered him without sleeping with him, without lying to his face about feelings he did not share, only to stab him in the back…

He'd seen all three faces of Raito: the friend, the lover, and the enemy -- and out of all of them, the one he most admired, ironically, was the face of his enemy. At least that one was prone to lie less than the other two.

"You keep telling me you want to help people, you want to save people, but if you really felt that way you would have accepted my offer of work the moment I brought it up."

Raito shook his head, voice failing him. "You weren't serious."

"When am I never serious when business is involved?"

"But you, yourself, said that I'd choose the NPA over you, and that you'd be fine with that. You knew I would never accept your offer in the first place, so why even bring it up? You didn't need to test me again when you'd already tested me with a similar situation before."

L hesitated. "I only like to hire the best, so do not hold it against me if I had become persistent with you."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever --" Raito balled his fist in frustration, giving up to stare incredulously at L. "Don't tell me you would have actually hired me if I'd said yes…"

"You are forgetting who I usually employ?" L answered. "If they are the best in their field, if they are useful to me, if they owe me a favor, if I can blackmail or buy them off -- these are all important things to consider when determining business relationships. There are many criminals in the underground that have never touched a weapon and yet they are considered world-class in their trades."

"At the time I asked you about your work preference, I was starting to doubt whether you were in fact Kira. Of course, I was waiting for my evidence, but if those two notebooks had been identical…" L trailed off, resuming with some effort, "if you had been innocent," he said, "I would have asked you to take the position of Eraldo Coil for me. And if you wanted the other one, I would have given you Danuve as well. I would have even made up a new detective if you wanted another alias."

"Not to mention, you would have had my candidacy for the L-name hands down above my other applicants, who are currently far too inexperienced. I have always been searching for a person who could succeed me in case I met with some misfortune earlier than expected, someone who could take my place and keep my identity going for as long as they could intelligently maintain it, until they were ready to hand it over to someone as equally capable."

L stared directly at Raito, dark eyes locking onto his lighter-colored one. "You have all my requirements and much more…you would have been perfect."

"You would have been perfect," L repeated, emphasizing on the 'would have.' "But I see now that you cannot manage power. It begins to corrupt and manipulate you, and I will not trust someone who will ultimately drag my name through the mud for his own purposes, because doubt my professionalism, but my name as L is the only thing of significance to me, and I will not have it tarnished by you."

Finally falling silent, L looked down at the floor. He no longer really had anything left to share with Raito, nothing that he found important anyway.

But despite having bared this part of himself, he still felt a sense of urgency. His last moments with Raito were upon him. His last moments to feel the things only Raito could instill within him, to feel the last shreds of challenge and strange tenderness that their relationship had afforded, before it was all swept away by the heartache awaiting him around the corner, because when he left here today and took with him his last memory of Raito, it would follow him for the rest of his life.

It would be unbearable at first – depression and emptiness would cling to him like shadows. He would find himself doubting his decisions in every thing he did. Things would be hard.

But in time those feelings would fade, enough for him to function within his role as detective again, but not enough for him to forget, to let go…

One day -- wherever in the future it might be -- he would get over Raito. He would get over this. L knew his capacity for emotion, and knew that once Raito was no longer an immediate physical presence in his life, he would move on. His independence would reinsert itself and he would begin to reject the very person he had been when he was with Raito, the sheer memory of it would be blocked out. He would make himself forget, and then Raito would only be a tombstone in his head.

A snag in his forward momentum, someone who had turned him into the type of person that was weak-minded and had a hard time comprehending people.

Maybe this was all for the best…

Did he really want to live a life that was dependent on another for happiness?

And what exactly was his happiness? Why couldn't he simply find that happiness with someone other than Raito? Did he really need to put himself through all of this for one human being when there were so many others out there?

_Not like him though, never like him…_

What was so special about Raito?

_Everything.__ Every single thing…_

He had his flaws and his complexes.

_But who else had ever come that close to becoming a god…_

Things could never work between them anyway.

_He could try. He'd never had to try in his life, but he'd try for him. He was the first person to step forward when the word 'impossible' was brought up, and impossible certainly summed up their relationship…_

L felt uncomfortable in his own skin, treacherous as his thoughts were, he was more concerned with the time. The limits he had placed on himself for –

L felt his eyes wondering over to Raito of their own accord, a brief sound from that side of the room making him halt.

Raito's hands were covering his face, but L could see tears falling from between them, pattering the cold floor. He was finally crying, and not because he regretted murdering people, or because he hurt his family, people who had continually trusted him – no, Raito was crying because he knew he was going to die, and it was the only thing he could do at the moment.

And for all the crap that L had had to put up with over the past few months, he could not hate him.

"Do not cry, Raito," L told him. "I do not want my last memory of you to have tears in it. I would like to remember you as too proud for them."

Despite his words, Raito continued to quietly mourn himself.

"Would you let someone like me see you in this state?" L asked, finally descending from his wheelchair. He crouched in front of Raito, a hand gently touching his shoulder.

Raito batted it away vehemently. "God, let me at least cry in peace, you --!" Giving up on his words, he turned his head away from L. "Go away, just leave me alone…"

L felt an ache in his chest at being dismissed. Of course, Raito would want his last moments for himself, but L didn't really care what he wanted. Those treacherous thoughts were whispering to him again, questioning his determination for justice.

Death was coming for Raito, but it was also inevitably going to come for him. L had no idea what Ryuuk was planning, if he would indeed kill him after he executed Raito for his crimes. He had no idea what to expect from Raito's shinigami. L had made the trade with him, and in turn they had made their own deal for who had the privilege of owning the remainder of Raito's lifespan. But all these complications could be avoided if the god of death had simply written down both their names in his notebook.

So really, he had no idea of what was going to happen in the end. He had no control over the situation. The only thing he seemed to have control over was at what time Raito would die, when it was okay to say goodbye to him…

Placing his hand on Raito's shoulder again, it was no surprise when L was met with an even angrier response. "You really don't know when to quit," Raito snarled, pushing his hand away. He let him brush him off, but persisted nevertheless, now both off his hands clamped down on Raito's shoulder.

"Listen to me," he demanded, decisions falling into place -- and at the tone of his voice, Raito had gone as still as a puppet whose strings had been cut.

L was going to forever regret this, but –

"There is one way you can save yourself, but there is no room for negotiations. Do you understand me?"

Raito looked at L, perplexed beyond a doubt.

"I could put you to use," L said, the words flowing out of him with frightening ease. "Intelligence never excuses bad behavior, but this is the not the first time I've hired those with a background."

Raito stared at him, dumbfounded.

"I am giving you two options, Raito: You can hate me and die. Or, you can hate me and be of use. I want you to work for me. That has always been true, and if you choose the latter, then you will be in my employment. You will take over the position of Danuve and any other position I see fit."

"All the chaos you have caused, you will make it right again. You will devote your entire life to correcting your mistakes. You want justice for this world, Raito, then do it within the system. You can hate me all you want. That does not bother me, but if you show signs of wanting to betray me again I will send you directly to your grave."

"I will own you and your ability until the day you die – if you can live with that knowledge then choose this. But if you have too much pride, then choose to die right now."

Raito stared at him, pained. "Goddamn you…"

"Give me an answer," L said, unflinching. He tightened his fingers on Raito's shoulders. "Do you really want to die that badly?" L asked. "Please do not make me do this to you," he said quietly. "Don't give a reason. I don't want to, but I will if you leave me no choice. I don't believe you can reform – I don't really care if you can reform, but the one thing I do know is that if you cannot work for then you are useless. I won't keep something that has no purpose and that wishes to always oppose me."

Raito closed his eyes and there were tears running down his face. "I don't want this…"

"Are you saying you would rather die than work for me?"

"Goddamn you, I die either way!" Raito shouted. "What the fuck do you want me to say? I don't want to live in a virtual prison for the rest of my life..." Raito was fisting his shirt in his hands, shoulders bowed, but eyes looking into his own. "I want my freedom."

"Then I cannot help you," L said, sadly. He took a good look at the brunette as he stood, but Raito suddenly grabbed him by the hand, drawing him back down. In return, L also grabbed onto Raito's hand as he knelt down in front of him.

"You need to make a choice. Once I walk out of that door, you are dead to me."

"I don't want to die…" Raito said, emotions laid bare.

"Then accept my offer."

Raito closed his eyes, shaking his head. "But what about my freedom, my freedom…"

"Raito," L said forcefully, grabbing him by the shoulders and steadying him. "Do you really want to cry about freedom when you will be dead? You can say how much you hate it, but when death comes for you, you will think differently."

"Do not think about it too much," he reasoned; a contradiction to everything the two of them had ever been. "Simply say 'yes' and this will be over."

"Then promise me," Raito suddenly said, eyes as sharp as ever. "I don't trust anything that comes out of your mouth, but at least give me better reassurance."

"You're accepting…?" L asked, taken aback.

_"Yes, so just promise me…"_

_

* * *

_

_We climbed, him first and I behind,_

_Until, through a small rounding opening ahead of us_

_I saw the lovely things the heavens hold,_

_And we came out to see once more the stars…_

**

* * *

**

**A/n:** The reason I used Dante's inferno as the ongoing allusion in this arc of the story is because the journey doesn't just end when Dante reaches the end of Hell. The journey continues, and that's essentially what I wanted to sum up for this pair. I have also gone a little (just a little) crazy with the amount of comparisons I've made between Raito and biblical characters/ or characters from legend: Eve, Lucifer, Judas, and Faust. I've done the same thing with L, but not as pronounced: Adam, Christ, and Dante – this has been more or less L's journey, as I've put it in his perspective.

**1.** **"THE EMPEROR OF THE WOEFUL REALM…"** This excerpt was taken from Canto XXXIV, the last chapter of Dante's inferno. This is where Dante enters the fourth and last zone of the ninth circle, called Judecca, after the Judas who betrayed Christ. This zone of hell punishes those who betray their lords or benefactors. Satan resides here as a three-headed fallen angel, encapsulated in ice from the waist down, and who chews within each mouth a significant betrayer. In the left mouth is Brutus and in the right is Cassius, betrayers of Julius Caesar. In the central and most ferocious mouth, Judas is kept.

**2. "We climbed, him first and I behind…"** Both Dante and his guide, Virgil, have left the horrors of Hell behind, and now ascend to the Mountain of Purgatory, where more trials await.


	20. An Orphanage in Winchester

From the window of a cab the building appeared to be only a church. A very homely one at that. However, behind the cross-tipped iron gates, it was a completely different story.

Raito watched children running wildly across the yard, a soccer ball caught in the midst of their stampede, and the sounds of shouting and laughter swallowing up all background noises that filtered in through the streets and sidewalks.

"Wammy's House?" Misa broke the silence with an attempt at reading the plaque on the center gatepost. She scratched her head. "This orphanage belongs to a guy named…Wammy?"

"You have already met him, Misa-san," L revealed, but chose not to clarify. Raising a hand high in the air, the detective began waving at the pack of boys closest to the gate, and despite being deeply immersed in their game, half of them immediately came to a halt. The other half _eventually _came to a stop, the noise around them also gradually dimming out as if someone had pressed 'pause' on a remote control.

A boy with brown, raggedy hair and blue overalls suddenly broke away from his group and ran in the direction of the house, his hands moving over his head like he was signaling for a ship that had returned to port, while the children remaining in the yard appeared to have forgotten what they were doing, gaping openly at the detective.

"Everyone's staring. I don't think they know who you are" Misa whispered. "Are you sure you came to the right house? We won't laugh at you too much if you messed up your directions. Misa does that sometimes."

"No, this is the place," L assured, smiling as an elderly man in a speckled gray jacket and khaki trousers hurried out of the building. He glanced towards the gate, and even from this distance, Raito could see the surprised expression he wore.

Unexpectedly, L pulled out his cell from his back pocket and dialed a number, and several seconds later, Raito heard a phone ringing and watched as the man standing on the steps of the building reached into his jacket.

"Roger, can you open the gate?" L said into the receiver, in appropriately, but oddly enough an English accent. "I can't get in otherwise."

The older man seemed to remember himself and began to hurry across the yard.

"What – what are you doing here?" Roger, as this man was called, reached into his jacket again, this time pulling out a set of old-looking keys looped around an equally antique-looking ring.

"I am 'taking time off work,' so I thought it would be best to stay here instead of at a fancy hotel that pampers me with room service and mints on my pillow. Can I come in?"

This man named Roger opened the gate, expression still at a loss. "You know you're always welcomed here, but I'm just a little surprised. I thought –" He stopped what he was about to say when he caught sight of him and Misa.

"Oh," L glanced back at them. "I should introduce you to my friends."

The elderly man seemed even more startled by the mention of "friends" than he was by L showing up out of nowhere.

"This is Minako-san," L started up, his hand held out to Misa so the girl would know he was talking about her. "And the person next to her is Kiyoshi-kun. Both have helped me out tremendously during my investigation of Kira."

"Hi," Misa said, in as much English as she could muster.

"It's nice to meet you," Raito greeted politely.

"…yes, likewise," Roger answered, still baffled as to what was happening, but going along nevertheless. He held his hand out to both of them in turns. "Does this mean…" he asked, returning his attention to L "…that you've caught Kira?"

"In a sense," L said, changing his answer when met with another puzzled stare from the elderly man. "Yes, I have caught him. The world is once again a safe place for criminals."

Roger appeared to be conflicted on whether to laugh at L's bad joke or outright chastise him.

"By any chance," L said, changing the subject, "Where would Mello and Near be?" He looked around the yard and smiled at some of the children as they stared back at him.

"I believe Mello is in Matt's room -- exams have finished for now so he's probably asleep. You know how stressed out he can get during this time -- and Near, he should be playing with his toys in one of the classrooms next to my office. I'll send one of the children to go get them.

"But before that, please come in," Roger said, turning to him and Misa, the latter having no idea what was being talked about.

When they reached the inside of the building, the first thing Raito was aware of was the children scattering about. Roger had grabbed a hold of one of the boys milling around the entrance, sending him off to fetch the two that L had requested.

They were currently walking down a spacious corridor with imbedded columns and white tile floors, and large rooms on either side. Raito tried to see what was in them, but missed his chances as he kept pace with the two men at the front.

Spying down the length of the hallway, he could see the beginning of a stairwell. There was a group of children sitting along the steps and he could feel the presence of their eyes.

Paying them no mind, he returned to listening to the conversation between L and that other man. Their talk wasn't terribly important and his attention soon drifted away again. He actually wanted to be shown the room he would be using so he could finally get some alone time, not to mention he was groggy from his nap on the plane. It would be nice to…

Thoughts falling away like grains of sand, Raito shifted his line of sight a couple of inches to the left, vision following the trace of white suddenly caught in his peripheral.

A boy in white, over-sized pajamas was trailing behind them slow as a snail. He was holding a puzzle box under his arm and staring down at his feet, as if it was too difficult to pick his head up.

What a weird boy.

Despite the comments, Raito's gaze did not stray and return to L. They continued to follow the boy's movements discreetly, even when he closely walked next to him. There was a split-second, where under that tuft of white hair, that strange boy looked up at him.

_This kid…!_

Coal, black eyes…

Like L's.

Raito glanced away, feeling somewhat disturbed by how similar it was. Unfortunately, he wasn't given the time to find out who exactly this boy was, not when his eyes instinctively leaped at the black blur that was coming from the opposite direction.

A blond-haired -- Raito squinted his eyes -- boy (?) in all black was running down the hall.

Stopping in front of them, L particularly, he opened his mouth like he was about to shout something, then he quickly closed it when he realized there was an audience. He oddly enough had the same dark eyes as L.

"It has been a long time," Raito heard the detective say. He was staring down at the two boys with something akin to contentment. "I am glad to see that everything is working out as it should on this end. Roger has been catching me up, but I would rather hear it from the two of you since this concerns your future." L scratched his head, eyes meandering away from the odd pair and falling back on him and Misa. "But that will come later. I should instead introduce everyone." Pointing towards them and switching back to Japanese for Misa's sake, he said, "This is Near and this Mello." He pointed at the white-haired boy first and then the blond next. "They are the front-runners for my position."

_L's successors…!_

Raito tried not to glare at them.

"And these two," L said, switching back to English, "are Minako-san and Kiyoshi-kun. Minako-san is my friend, and Kiyoshi-kun is in my employment."

That statement seemed to turn some heads, and like magnets, both sets of dark eyes locked on him with strange intensity. Raito smiled politely to offset the tense mood.

It was bad enough being watched by one pair of those eyes, but add in another and he actually felt like telling them to cut it out -- especially that blond kid, who was not exactly hiding the fact that he was glaring at him too. It also did not help that L seemed to be egging them on with his comments. He had conveniently introduced him as an employee. It might be true…but these kids definitely didn't need to hear anything about that.

"Kiyoshi-kun and Minako-san are good people, so please play nice with them."

* * *

_One __month__ earlier:_

"Watari, please come down for a moment. I think I need your help." The abrupt click on the other end of the line was more of a satisfactory response than any verbal one the older man could give. Seated outside the door of Raito's cell, L could feel his heartbeat slowly coming back down, his breathing finally leveling out, and his mind going strangely numb.

Thankfully, Watari was not long in coming, and as he stopped in front of him waiting for his request, L hesitated. He realized that what he was about to ask for was a bit of a stretch – actually more than a stretch. "This is going to sound strange," he begun, immediately disliking the tone used. "Yes…this is not going to sound good, but I am fully aware of what I am about to do."

Watari actually opened his eyes.

"You see," L started up again, still not so sure of himself. "I have done something that maybe I shouldn't have, and it will most likely get me into some trouble in the future. I plan to take full responsibility for my actions when that time comes, but for now, I will take responsibility for nothing and see where that takes me."

Getting a confused reaction out of Watari was always rare, so L knew at this point he either had to be doing something very right or otherwise something very wrong.

"I am not going to execute Raito."

L looked at him closely, trying to gauge his response before it came.

"I instead plan to employ him."

**"…"**

Watari cleared his throat. "That is your decision to make."

"It is not a good decision though," L said, and this was the first time that Watari had heard him openly criticizing himself for an action he planned to stand behind. Not to say that L thought he was ultimately infallible, but the detective usually had no negative feedback when it came to his tactics

"If I were a proper man Raito would have already been injected with a lethal dose of Potassium chloride by now." L hated the idea that he was going against his words, that he was breaking promises, both silent and proud declarations of Kira's capture and subsequent execution; promises he had made to the world, to the investigation team, to himself…

He had sworn, and the fact that he would not -- could not bring himself to hurt Raito anymore was going to weigh as heavy on his soul as the knowledge that he had let those things happen to him in the first place.

"I believe with every fiber of my being that I can somehow make this work out for the best, that I can somehow keep my principles, my career, and Raito under control. However, 99 percent of that belief appears to stem from forced optimism and any defense mechanisms that I have not used yet to justify myself. It is quite hopeless if I am being honest with myself." L rubbed his thumb over his bottom lip pensively. He looked up at Watari. "I realize that I am in no way objective when it comes to Raito. That I am favoring him over more sensible, noble feelings, but I…" he looked down at his lap, seeming to struggle with his words and his thoughts.

"I am too tired to care anymore. I simply want to go home and take him with me."

Watari stood there, rather dumbfounded at how weak L's voice sounded.

He had known L was suffering. Two weeks ago, he had walked into his room and had seen the disarray left behind. A broken laptop, shards of dishware, ugly looking scrapes on the floor that he assumed had come from the wooden desk-chair now residing against a nearby wall, the reason for its sudden migration likely due to being kicked into it by the younger man.

Unless physically provoked, L was not the kind of person that grew violent when he was angry. He got grumpy and bluntly told people to 'shut up' or 'leave him alone.' In no way did he freak out and break things.

Watari knew it was impossible to negotiate the differences between L before and after this case, that the young man before him was not the same person at the start of all of this. Too many things had been introduced into his life where even if he wanted to go back to the way things were it would be impossible.

In a way, it was almost sad.

"But I cannot go back in this state," L said, that realistic side to him not being overcome by the overwhelming urge to immediately run back to Wammy House.

"Would you like me to arrange reservations at a hotel with a private clinic? It has been three months since your leg injury and you could spend the next month or two in physical therapy. Though I would advise you take the full six months to properly heal before you start rehabilitation."

"Three more months of rest doesn't sound like a bad idea, but I would rather speed up the process so I can finish recuperating at home. A month should do."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I want to walk as soon as possible, so please make those arrangements." L touched the part of his left leg where the bullet had pierced, feeling the indention of skin even through his jeans. "I do not trust myself to keep a level head through this," he said, continuing to run fingers over the wound. "This is proof enough of my carelessness." L drew his hands away, resting it gently on the rims of his wheelchair. "I cannot trust myself when it comes to Raito, but I do know I can count on you to remain impartial."

Watari would gladly take on any responsibility for L. However, the older man did not know how much of a help he would be in this situation. Being perfectly neutral in the case of any person was an impossible task, but Raito was an especially difficult person to guard emotions against. Prior to all this, Watari had actually taken quite a liking to the young man and had been content to see that L enjoyed this person's company as well, despite the constant fighting and accusations flying about.

It was nice. L rarely -- if ever -- listened to anyone. Even years of living with the detective had not made Watari an exception. On the other hand, Raito had been quite good at persuading him.

Then again, Watari supposed it was also that very reason which had caused all this chaos in the first place.

"I have other business to attend to, but please get him cleaned up and taken care of."

Watari bowed slightly, even though such etiquette was never necessary between.

"Of course."

**………………………..**

Both Rem and Ryuuk were standing in the middle of his room when he came in.

It was disconcerting to say the least.

"What is the meaning of this?" Rem asked, venom lacing her voice.

"I wasn't expecting you to do that." Ryuuk was crouched on his desk, grinning from ear to ear.

L knew they both would be able to sense that Raito was still alive. Rem was the shinigami tied to Raito after Higuichi's capture and Ryuuk was originally the death god that haunted the teen.

"He needs to die. I don't know what he's telling you –"

L raised a hand to cut her off. "He is not the one in control, Rem-san. Please do not make that mistake with me."

Those golden pupils lit up angrily, but L moved to his desk without fear, opening the drawer where he kept the three deathnotes hidden. He took out the two that had belonged to Raito and Misa, leaving the priest's notebook in the drawer and the one he had used to make his trade with Ryuuk. It was practically his now.

L motioned for Rem to follow him, and Ryuuk's head perked up, interested in seeing what the detective had planned.

"What are you doing?" The hostility in her voice did not cause him to falter as he made his way to Misa's bedroom and opened the door without so much as a knock.

The blond was up and off the bed she had been reclining on when he came in. Her doe-brown eyes grew larger than they already were as she caught sight of the deathnote held in his hand -- or what she supposed was Kira's weapon from that conversation with Rem in the Yotsuba restroom all those months ago.

"I can tell by the look on your face that you know exactly what this is."

Rem stared at him icily, but she did not give into loud protests.

"What're you talking about?"

"Misa-san, I know you are the second Kira. You do not need to hide it from me." L rolled forward, halting directly in front of the blond. He held the deathnote out to her. "Take it. Originally this was your notebook, so I am giving it back to you."

Misa gave him a strange look, which was understandable. "That's not mine. And I'm not Kira," she added defiantly.

L sighed. "Misa-san, I know you are smarter than this. So please do not be cross with me and take your notebook before I drop it."

"Where's Raito?" she asked. Whatever panic Misa felt at the moment, she was containing it with the mask of a performer on stage.

"I will tell you exactly where Raito is, but only if you take this notebook and follow my instructions."

L could feel the heat from Rem's glare on his neck.

"You're lying. I asked you all those other times you visited me and you never once told me anything. Why should I believe you now?"

"Because it is convenient for me now," he stated. "Today things are different and I would like Misa-san's cooperation with this."

Misa was gaping at him as if he'd suddenly grown a second head. "M-my cooperation?" Her face screwed up in an expression of confusion and anger. "I don't know what's going on, but you're nuts and I want to see Raito."

"I am giving you that chance, but first you must take this notebook from me."

"But you're lying!" Misa accused. "You're not going to let me see him. I know it."

"Then you must be willing to take that chance. I feel that I am more trustworthy than Raito," L commented offhandedly, "but you might not see it that way." He smiled at her and then pushed the notebook in her direction. "Take it, my hand is going numb."

Misa made a cutely frustrated noise before snatching it out of his grasp, and as she did so, her expression changed from agitated to stunned, her eyes glazed over and he heard her make a tiny sound, as if pained. He watched her stagger a bit to the side, her line of sight traveling past him and towards the now visible figure of Rem.

"Now that your memories have returned," L interrupted, reaching out to her, "I would like you to give them back."

Misa snapped her head in his direction. _"What?"_

The detective pointed over to the white shinigami. "Hand Rem-san the notebook as you renounce its ownership." That should wipe her memory clean of anything involving the deathnote and fulfill one-half of the bargain he had made with Rem. However, he knew the shinigami would not be satisfied with the simple erasing of memories. She also wanted Misa to have nothing to do with Raito or himself, an understandable desire, seeing as how one of them had used Misa to achieve his goals while the other had been planning to execute the second kira after he was finished with the first.

L would have agreed with the shinigami's choice to separate the blond from their sphere of influence. But on the other hand, he would also like to point out that Rem's wish was not very realistic. To tell the truth, he had plainly "misinformed" the shinigami when he had made that promise to erase Raito's existence from Misa's memory. At the time, he had been desperate to get any leverage over Raito in bargaining with Rem, so he could not really be blamed for the things that had come out of his mouth as a result. Or that's what he told himself.

The important thing now was to get Rem to change her mind, or at least to get Misa on his side so she could change her shinigami's mind for him. "Misa-san, this is the only way I can allow you to see Raito-kun, so please renounce your ownership of the deathnote. I promise that nothing will happen to either of you."

"We did not agree to these terms," Rem hissed at him. She had been staying quiet ever since the conversation started, but his continual talk of Raito, and an alive one at that, probably irked her more than anything.

L tried to look oblivious. "Rem-san, let us not bring this up right now."

"If this is how you choose to repay me then I should have let Raito have his way."

"Maybe you should have," L agreed, large eyes focusing on Misa and the confused look on her face. "It would have made Misa-san quite happy despite the fate awaiting her when Raito was ready to cover his tracks. I believe we can conjecture all we want about this, but it does not change the fact this is really up to Misa-san. Don't you agree?"

Rem did not respond.

"And the only question I should be asking," L said, a carefree lilt to his voice, "is what will bring Misa-san her ultimate happiness?"

The blond suddenly pumped one of her arms in the air. "That's easy. Misa needs her Raito."

L smiled. "Did you hear that Rem-san? I do not know about you, but unlike the rest of us, Misa-san is far from conflicted when it comes to her feelings. We should respect that and give her what she wants."

"I think he pulled one over on you," looking on from the sidelines, Ryuuk chuckled at the other shinigami.

"You need to keep quiet," Rem said. "I don't see how you've helped any when you're the shinigami that gave that boy a deathnote in the first place."

Ryuuk shrugged. "I'm just an onlooker here, and getting too hung up on this and that makes it less fun for me. You need to lighten up."

The white shinigami paid no further mind to Ryuuk, a normal occurrence between them, her attention naturally centering back onto the small blond looking up at her.

"Rem, I want this. I want to be with Raito."

Imperceptibly, the unyielding expression on the shinigami's face seemed to give way. Sadness crossed her countenance, a rare emotion for a creature that had lived for eons and had seen everything this world had to offer. It was not hard to tell that Rem was saddened by Misa's choice.

"Is this really what you want?" Rem asked, sullen, but prepared to give in. "I would have no problem giving my life for you, Misa. You only have to say it and I will kill him and Raito."

"Don't kill Raito!" she screeched.

L titled his head the other way. "I'm grateful for Misa-san's concern."

"Oh," she said, realizing what had come out of her mouth. "I guess I wouldn't want Ryuuzaki to die either -- unless he gets in the way of Misa and Raito's love." There was a rather mean-spirited grin on her face as she said this.

L could not help but think that when it came to her happiness, Misa could be just as cold-blooded as Raito. It also did not help that she had an affinity for acting the part.

"You have nothing to worry about," he told her, and he meant every word. Things were different between Raito and him, and he would not go looking for something that did not truly exist. For now, it was good enough that Raito was alive. He could console himself with that fact.

"Do we have a deal, Misa-san?"

Jumping headfirst into this as she was used to doing with everything in her life, Misa agreed with a smile on her face. "I give it up," she said, handing the black book over to Rem. L watched her lose her memories again as well as subsequently lose consciousness.

Thankfully, Rem was there to catch her when she fell.

"I won't try to stop her from being with him," Rem said as she scooped Misa up and rested her on the bed. "But if something happens to her – if either of you hurt her in any way, I will find you and I will kill you both."

"That is understandable," L agreed, moving towards the door. He glanced back at Misa and at the white shinigami watching over her.

It was simply amazing how loyal and dedicated Rem was to Misa.

If only Raito and he were half as dignified, maybe things wouldn't have turned out this way.

Closing the door behind him L noticed he had a follower. "That reminds me," he blurted out, "we also have some things to discuss. Don't we, Ryuuk-san?"

"About what?" the shinigami asked. "Do you have more apples?"

"No…that's not what I meant."

"About Raito?"

"Yes, and more specifically about him staying alive."

"You got me – I was surprised," Ryuuk announced.

"Ah…" L wondered if Raito's shinigami was just a little bit dense. "Yes, but…I was sure you would kill him if I did not."

"Huh. Oh yeah, about that…" Ryuuk scratched the top of his head. "I have some questions."

L tried not to scratch his head in return. "You have…questions."

"Like what do you plan to do with Raito? I think that's a good one to start with."

L stared at the shinigami. "Well…I plan to hire him. As you already know Raito is very intelligent, so I think it would do more good than harm to allow him to fix his own mistakes rather than getting someone else to do it – namely myself."

"Is that so?" Ryuuk asked. "And you're not worried that he'll knife you in the back again." The shinigami was grinning as if he thought that was a fun idea.

"If he betrays me again, I will kill him." There were many things L was indecisive about when it came to Raito -- this was not one of them.

"And if he gets to you first…?" Ryuuk's grin couldn't possibly grow any wider.

"Then I have lost, Raito has won, and you will be given the chance to see a new world being built from the ground up. Either way, I see this as your victory, shinigami-san."

"You guys…" Ryuuk chuckled "…are fun. I think I'll leave you alone for a while and see what happens. But ten to one Raito kills you the first chance he gets, and when that happens I'm giving him a deathnote."

L smirked. "And ten to one, I keep him on a short enough leash where that thought never even crosses his mind. Shinigami-san, please do not underestimate how absolutely paranoid a human being can get when they keep their enemies a hands reach away."

"I guess I'll have to remember that. But you know, you wouldn't have to worry 'bout none of that if you erased his memory."

"Are you telling a joke, Ryuuk-san?" L asked, face completely serious. "Because if you are, it is not very funny." L's demeanor had changed and Ryuuk could tell that he had stepped on one of those figurative land-minds that he'd always been running into when Raito snapped at him. "I would sooner kill Raito than make him forget all the horrible things he has done, and I know that you would also sooner kill him if he were to forget, so please stop uselessly testing me."

"You're right – no use in keeping him around when he's not his usual prickly self. I was just seeing whether you had my interests in mind."

"Of course," L said. He looked down at the deathnote in his hands, the one that had originally belonged to Raito. "I will need him to give up the eyesight. And as much as I would like to keep this part of the deal – it will surely come in handy during cases -- I cannot possible keep it. This power was not meant for human beings. I have already seen the lifespans of everyone here and I do not think I can bear seeing any more."

"So you're giving up ownership too."

"Yes, but since I have not killed anyone with the deathnote used to make my trade, I will basically keep all my memories. Raito, on the other hand, will need sufficient evidence to realize that he is Kira. Thankfully, I have recorded all of our conversations here, but just in case, I will make him write down in his own words everything that he has done up to this point that concerns the deathnote. It may take several days, so please stick around until then."

* * *

The sheets were white with a cream-colored blanket on top. 

Raito sat down on the bed he would be using, noticing as his full weight was absorbed into the mattress below that one of the springs was loose. There was a large, picture window in front of him, sunlight rippling over the sill and spilling through the white, almost translucent drapes as they fluttered restlessly in the wind. His room was on the second floor, but it faced towards the front yard.

He could hear the laughter of children.

Resting his head in his hands, Raito took a deep breath. It had been one months since he'd been released. One incredibly uncomfortable month. L and him weren't exactly on speaking terms, neither were they even too fond of being in the same room together – which was fine with him because he would rather keep his distance than have the detective cross him the wrong way.

It seemed L was avoiding him with the same vigor. The detective could speak about him, but he could not bring himself to speak directly to him. Raito saw little to no humor in their situation, but if he could make even the unfazeble L feel uncomfortable then consider it an accomplishment in itself.

He could not believe he was actually thinking this but he was actually grateful for Misa's presence. With L and him not on speaking terms they needed a way to get messages across without one of them actually having to go talk to the other, and Misa did not seem to have any problem running between them and blurting out whatever she'd heard. That method of communication seemed to be ideal for the moment, but they couldn't ignore each other forever -- however much Raito wanted to. Eventually L would come to him after this vacation-nonsense was over and he wanted to get back to work. Then he would start bossing him around…

The idea of L bossing him around made Raito want to toss a chair out the nearest window. He'd had one month to come to terms with the idea -- and still -- the very thought of it angered him, incensed him, worse it frustrated him.

It hurt. His pride was in tatters around his feet and there was nothing he could do about it. Ever since the day he had fallen in front of L and begged to be saved from certain death, there was absolutely nothing he could do.

Raito felt hot, stinging regret for every word he had uttered that day, for all the power he had given L over him. In that instant, he had known what he was supposed to do. He should have let Ryuuk kill him. To crystallize his ego, he should have bit through his own tongue and bled to death on that cold concrete floor.

He should have…

But he did not -- would not, because simply put, panic and terror were stronger emotions than pride and honor. He wanted to live and nothing at that moment could have rivaled his survival instinct. He would have agreed to anything, undergone any suffering, any loss simply for the chance to continue on.

It made him feel ashamed. For the first time in his life, emotions like hatred and disappointment and sadness, they were not only being channeled towards others, but also himself. It did not only stop there. Under the tumult of emotions that he could not control, there was one thought that consistently plagued him, that made it hard to breath sometimes, that summed up his failures in one brutal truth:

_He had lost everything._

L had taken everything away from him, and no matter how hard he tried, he was never going to get it back.

"Excuse me," came the sudden reply from behind the door. Raito bolted up from the bed, looking on as the door was opened and the man he had been introduced to as "Roger" came through.

"Sorry to barge in on you like this."

"It's no problem at all," he lied, trying his best to smile, but giving the man one of his weaker impersonations. "Can I help you with something?"

"I should be asking you that question," Roger said, genially. "If you need any help unpacking or getting to know your surroundings I would be glad to –" An indignant shriek from one of the children outside made the older man stop what he was about to say. Shaking his head disapprovingly, Roger walked up to the window and promptly closed it shut. "Those children can be so noisy sometime." He fixed the drapes into place and turned back towards him. "I'm sorry about the inconvenience with the rooms. I can always find you another one, maybe something closer to your friend. I put her all the way on the other end of the hall. I hope the boys leave her alone. They can be little terrors at night." Roger then cleared his throat. "But she should be fine. She seems to like children."

"Oh…yeah," Raito said, not really in the mood to hold any sort of conversation.

Walking over to the door, Roger hesitated before showing himself out. "I forgot to mention that dinner is ready. You're welcome to join us downstairs if you'd like."

"No…that's okay. I'm pretty tired, so…" He glanced down at the bed.

"Yes, of course. Well, I'll leave you to get your rest."

* * *

**A/n:** Finally, we've reached the end of the Russian Arc. This was a transition chapter, so it wasn't much fun to write, which probably explains why I took so long to get it up here. 

**1.** **Minako –** means "beautiful" and "child"

**2. Kiyoshi –** means "pure"


	21. Settling In

_"A prince that is diligent in times of peace will be ready in times of adversity; thus when fortune turns against him he will be prepared to resist it."--_ Machiavelli's The Prince

**…………………………**

He could make out the tail end of one of the gashes in the mirror across from him, and turning away from the tiled-countertop, Raito looked over his shoulder to closer inspect the damaged tissue.

Healing was progressing along, but not as quickly as he wished it to. It would be awhile until he could remove the stitches; sleeping on his back was out of the picture for a few more months; and he'd have to continue wearing bandages under his clothing until it completely healed.

But these were all minor complaints in comparison to the mess of forming scar tissue that swiped in two arcs across his shoulder blades. The scalpel to which that motherless prick had used on him had cleanly cut away at flesh and nerve endings, and now the skin around that area of his back was stretching and contorting itself to cover what had been lost.

Both dull and detailed memories of that moment flashed over his mind's eye: the sounds of discordant breathing; the wet, opened-out feeling of blood trickling down his back; and the pulsing pain that made him hurt as much as the intrinsic ache of knowing something was missing.

The deathnote had not made him forget one minute of being tortured and being scared. Like holding a photograph over a lighter, certain memories were frayed at the edges, leaving intact his ability to recognize overall situations, despite the faulty perceptions that came along with it. He had genuinely believed, upon waking a month ago, that they were holding him there on _suspicions _of being Kira.

But then L had shown up and had brought with him a book.

Looking at the first page Raito quickly realized it was journal. But not just of some stranger's life. It was written in _his_ handwriting and expressed very personal thoughts and feelings that he had never shared with another living soul.

He was then made to read the case files L had accumulated over the span of this investigation, and watch tape after tape of "conversations" they had during the last three months. The detective finished by giving further explanations, even though at that point it was unnecessary.

Raito knew himself. He knew inside and out of what he was cable of and how passionately he felt about certain things. Analyzing this case from an objective standpoint: Kira's methodology of consistent attacking and the obvious derision behind it; the moralistic philosophies that seemed to prompt and in turn be influenced by each strategy; and more importantly the fact that he had shown up at precisely the right time during L's investigation and had gotten extremely close to him without having a clear-cut idea as to why he had pursued the detective the way he did.

He remembers intensely wanting to join the Kira case. He linked it to a desire to catch the person sullying his reputation, but in reality, he had suddenly come into this investigation because he needed to get closer to L. He needed to watch his every move and be sure that the detective was doing the things he wanted.

_Move in and kill _-- that was the idea behind it. That was the idea behind everything he had done during the past two years.

_God, the deaths of all those people…_

Raito felt an intense wave of nausea hit him.

It went without saying that he was shocked, that he was horrified by what he had read. It was unbelievable really…

…but the longer he had sat there in his cell, contemplating each event in context to what Kira had been trying to do -- what he had been trying to do -- the easier justifications seemed to come.

He had killed…but was it so bad when the dead were killers themselves? He must have done it to save people. He must have. Even the deaths of those FBI agents…

There was a strange transformation taking place within him, one that made more sense the longer he was left to sort out his thoughts, the more information he was fed in order to prove his existence as Kira.

He had a number of memories linked to intense emotions in concern to L, where the image in his head and the feeling he was experiencing did not quite match up. And out of all the emotions he had been subjected to during that the course of that time, frustration and hate had been the predominant.

Raito might feel like there was nothing in which he could place his trust in, but he would believe in those feelings, in those instincts, and in the single word that had ended his journal:

_"Survive."_

**……………………**

_"Princes have not only to watch out for present problems but also for those in the future, and try diligently to avoid them; for once problems are recognized ahead of time, they can be easily cured, but if you wait for them to present themselves, the medicine will be too late, for the disease will have become incurable. And what physicians say about disease is applicable here: that at the beginning a disease is easy to cure but difficult to diagnose, but as time passes, not having been recognized or treated at the outset, it becomes easy to diagnose but difficult to cure."_

**………………………**

Raito looked both ways and stepped out into the hallway quietly.

He absently touched his stomach.

In exchange for alone time yesterday he had skipped out on dinner, so it was no surprise he was hungry. He supposed it also had something to do with his appetite coming back.

Descending the stairwell, Raito found himself in familiar territory as he faced the corridor that led to the front entrance. There was another hallway, this one also directly opposite of the staircase, the outer wall that lined it broken up by large, arched glass-windows.

By the smell of it, the kitchen was in this direction.

There was a good chance he'd run into L there. He should_ attempt_ to talk to him; at least find out what he had planned. Raito did not enjoy being in the dark, and there was only so much he could learn from second-hand accounts before it became necessary to check with the source. It was bothersome, but he would have to put aside his feelings and make an effort at 'getting along' with the detective. If he put-off this problem for any longer, it would turn into a considerable pain in the butt, one that would make things between them even more strained, as fun as that sounded.

Deep in thought, Raito walked past the kitchen area. He stopped, turned around, but did not go in and instead waited outside the door. Like he had guessed L was in the kitchen, but he was not alone. That blond boy was with him, not to mention another boy he did not recognize.

Leaning against the wall, he decided to wait for his chance to approach, and fortunately for him L was as quiet as he was subtle, so he would have no problem listening in on their conversation and finding the appropriate time to cut in.

"Everyone saw the Kanto broadcast between you and Kira. We couldn't stop talking about it, even weeks after. It was really cool how you called him out."

"I am glad you liked it," L answered, noisily chewing.

"Yeah, we all did, especially the part where you announced you would reveal his identity for the world to see." There was a pause, like he was getting up the nerve to ask a question. "I was wondering why you never announced who he was. I guess it would cause problems if it became public knowledge, but you can tell us, right? I wouldn't say anything. Matt wouldn't say anything either, right?"

"Tell me when to put my hands over my ears." Beeps and other sound effects that could only be coming from a handheld game filled the room.

"Yes, I know you can all keep a secret, but that is still confidential."

"But you always leave your case files open for us."

"Yes, but for now, I would like to return to our discussion on both your and Matt's progress, not on what I've been up to for the past two years. It is old news to me."

"But not to us," the blond said, voice climbing up a scale.

"Are you experiencing that stage of rebellion that is common for children your age?" L bluntly asked.

"No," the boy answered, there was an obvious pout in his voice.

"Then let us talk about something else. Roger tells me that you have a taste for Wolfgang Borchert and Richard Fariña -- the depressing and then the moderately humorous depressing."

"I don't really. He just likes to sneak up on me when I'm at the library. He's nosy."

"It is in his job description to be that way. He also told me that you like to creep out of your room at night and walk around town like a stray cat, with another night friend that would rather finish his game than listen to what I have to say."

The beeping noises stopped.

"You only turned down the volume," L pointed out. "Is there any way that I can hold your attention without kicking you?"

"You could introduce me to that girl with the handlebars," the other boy suddenly replied." I saw her walking down the hallway with Roger this morning. She's awfully cute. Is she your girlfriend or something?"

There was a long pause. "Minako-san is off-limits. Please turn your hormonal attention towards a girl that is within your age range."

"So she's your girlfriend," he heard the boy say, disbelieving. "Man, if you can get a girl like that then there's still hope for the rest – ow."

"What have we learned today?"

The beeping noises turned back on. "That I'm better off not talking to guys twice my size, or I should just point them in Mello's direction so he can beat them up with his freakish strength."

"That is not the answer I was going for. It is good to know how to defend yourself, but I would rather if Mello learned to reason things out instead of using his peers as moving punching bags."

"But um…you just hit me."

"You are remembering the wrong things," L said, and Raito felt like rolling his eyes. "For that I will give Mello a pat on the head. Would you like a pat on the head, Mello?"

"I'm not a kid anymore…" the blond replied. "…but I guess it doesn't hurt once in a while." He then laughed when, Raito assumed, L patted him on the head.

"Roger's always lecturing me about this and that, but he always treats Near better than me, so I'm glad you're back."

"I do not necessarily think that is the case; however, you are entitled to your opinion, especially when that opinion sees me in such a positive light. Another pat on the head for you."

There was more laughing, and more general chatter before not too long Raito could hear the clinking of silverware, the occupants of the room appearing to have finished with their conversation. However, that boy named Mello cleared his throat, implying that he was far from done.

"Did you come here to…choose your successor?"

"Partly," L answered, masticating away like a cow. "But that will only happen when I am ready and since I am not at the moment you will have to be patient. It is a hard decision picking between the two of you." Raito could hardly tell what the detective had just said, his bad habit of talking with his mouth full to thank for that.

There was a pause before the boy answered him, evidently he could make sense out of people while they had a glob of cake in their trap. "If you're going by test scores then it should be easy to decide." His tone had angry resignation written all over it. Raito could not help but think how easy he was to read.

"Test scores are test scores," L replied. "Being successful in the field does not always follow a number on a piece of paper. In the future I would like the both of you to remember that, especially you, Mello. Now please run along to your morning classes, Kiyoshi and I have some things to discuss."

Raito cursed under his breath, annoyed that L had known he was standing here all along. How exactly he even knew in the first place beyond him.

Smoothing out his expression, he stepped from behind the wall and walked into the kitchen. "Was I that obvious?" he said, trying to appear casual for their pubescent onlookers.

"No, but I can smell your cologne," L answered, tapping his nose.

_How the hell…?_ He could hardly smell anything, and he was the one wearing it.

"C'mon Matt," the blond said, hoping off his stool, and at the same time interrupting his thoughts. Raito quickly noticed that he was glaring at him, while his friend much too busy with his handheld did not even bother to look up.

"Right behind you," the other boy replied, eyes still preoccupied with his game. He slid out of his chair and followed after Mello, and as he passed him on his way out, he finally noticed the shadow of another person in the doorway and glanced up to see Raito.

"Whoa mama…"

Fortunately for this "Matt" person, Raito ignored the comment.

When the blond and his strangely-attired friend left, the atmosphere between L and him quickly reverted back to the unpleasant tension of the past few months. L was sipping tea -- quietly for once -- and not making any moves to fill in the silence.

It aggravated Raito to think that the problem between them was easier to leave alone than fix. After all, he had come down here to talk, not stand around and become part of the scenery. But if L wanted to be that way, then he could just as easily ignore him, his hunger was making itself known so he was not in the mood to pay it no attention.

After rummaging around, Raito brought his spoils with him and slid into the neighboring stool from L. He had to admit that this kitchen was stocked, the salver in front of him with its slices of ham basted with spicy grape preserves and very much untouched by grubby hands attested to that.

There were loaves of baked break in a basket across from him, and catching a woven edge, he dragged it across the countertop towards him. Searching around next for a butter-knife, he found one on L's side of the table and reached over his arm without hesitation for it.

"Can you hand me that?" Raito asked, pointing towards a jar of mustard.

L stared at him and then pushed it over to his side. "You will ask me to retrieve mustard, but other than that I cannot get a word out of you."

Raito cut the loaf in half. "I didn't realize you were trying." Punctuating the sides of one of the pieces with the dull tip of the butter-knife, he sliced it edgewise and carved it open, repeating with another loaf until he had four halves neatly lined on a plate. "Well then, what is it?"

L tapped one of his fingers on the countertop. "You are not making this any easier for me either."

Raito unscrewed the top off the mustard jar and began to slather each slice of bread. "Then I don't really know what to tell you. I would be lying if I said I didn't feel uncomfortable right now, but that's only natural -- knowing what I am and knowing what you are." He stared L right in the eyes and the detective stared right back. "If you want it to stop, you can just as simply order me to –"

"Like a robot," L interrupted, eyes never once leaving him. "I'm sorry, but I am trying very hard to reason things out with you, not tell you what to do. When I am tired of you being indirectly spiteful then I might ask you to cut it out."

"Do you really want to start an argument with me here?" Raito frowned at the words that had suddenly jumped out of his mouth.

"No, that would be counterproductive." L scratched his arm. "Let us not talk about this anymore – it's annoying and I have something else that I would like to discuss with you, but in private."

A group of children ran by the door, some continuing on and others trickling inside the kitchen.

"Take your time, I will wait," L said to him, before turning towards the adolescents that were greeting him, their noisy presence lifting the awkwardness away from the room.

Giving up and simply leaving it at that, Raito went onto finish his breakfast.

**………………………**

_"For men do harm either out of fear or hatred. And anyone who believes that new benefits make men of high station forget old injuries is deceiving himself."_

**………………………**

The library spanned one wing of the building, but it did not even come close to the sheer magnitude of some of the libraries he had gone to in Tokyo. Though space seemed to be used more efficiently here – maybe a little too efficiently, as the bookshelves were arranged closer than should be permitted.

L was still walking briskly ahead of him, hands shoved in pockets and hunched back making his gait appear slower than for the person following behind. He climbed the winding staircase leading up to the second floor, where a thin iron banister, with coiling grates like double helixes, enclosed a balcony area and winded along half the perimeter before being enclosed itself into a sturdier, concrete barrier that made up the other half of the upper deck where the shelves were kept.

Raito looked over the railing at the library underneath. He could smell the dust and old paper odor that was present in every library, but was incredibly overpowering in this one. Obviously this library had been around for a while, so it felt sort of out-of-place to watch L walk up to a keypad in the wall and start punching in numbers.

After waiting a minute, with L still inputting numbers, Raito felt his patience waver.

_Geez, how long was his password._

Attention not up to finding out, Raito glanced around, noting a globe and a chest-high bookshelf propped against the wall; and eyes skimming over the bindings of each book, he suddenly realized what he was looking at.

L was still dialing in a password that for how long it took might as well have been a novel, and leaving him to it, Raito went over to take a closer look at the bookshelf.

It had airtight glass surrounding it, and with good reason too, because every book behind that casing was very expensive.

"That would be Roger's collection," L commented. Raito suddenly heard a loud clicking sound, the heavy bolt lodged in the impression in the wall most likely slamming itself back into the keyhole and finally unlocking the door. "But please pull yourself away from it; I would like to show you something." L held the door open for him and Raito walked in without a word.

The first thing he noticed was the desk pushed up against the wall; its very use made void by its backwards arrangement. The chair that most likely sat behind it was alone in the middle of room, seemingly abandoned; a single laptop connected to multiple peripherals, like cameras, speakers, timers, and so on, also stationed in the middle.

The room was sparse, the hardwood floors smelling of varnish and nothing more. It was probably not an assumption to think people were never brought in here.

L made a gesture towards the laptop and Raito took a seat in the chair, watching as the detective sat on the floor.

"This is where I keep all the contact information used for various networks, as well as another back-up system for my case files. There are many setups identical to this one in various countries, so it is as the many others like it -- very expendable.

"Since you'll be working for me I see it as a bother to hide the way I do things, and since you can probably hack into my system and figure it out yourself, I will leave you to it."

Raito stared down at the detective.

_He wanted him to do what?_

L stood up and pointed down at the vacated seat. "I'm giving it to you, so do with it whatever you like."

Raito continued to stare at him.

It was unbelievable that L was allowing him access to his files, more than that, the chance to manipulate them in whatever manner he chose. There had to be a monitoring system in the laptop that he would not be able to access as easily. It could be that he was testing him, but it was such an _obvious_ test. However, he could not write-off the possibility that when L was not lying his ass off, the other half of the time he actually had a pretty straightforward personality.

"Later then," L drawled with that low voice, hands casually sinking back into his pockets. He halted in front of the door, appearing to be turning something around in his head. "If you would like…I could probably get the key from Roger for his book collection."

"You don't have to," Raito said mindlessly; concentration already on what was happening on the screen as his fingers glided over the keyboard. By the looks of it hacking into this was going to take more than an hour. It might even take him the entire day. Not that that was officially a bad thing, especially with the first-stage of gaining access built around such interesting security measures. L's intrusion detection system was anomaly-based, but unlike some application software running on the same principle of set mathematical formulas that synchronized with "normal activity" but could not specifically define "deviations" that would constitute attacks, it seemed like the detective had hacked into a basic security program and configured alongside the implemented heuristics element, complex algorithms that covered a vast array of bug, viruses, and potential loopholes.

There was even a virus that would immediately start attacking the computer itself when it detected in a breach in the --

Raito felt L's gaze on him and he finally looked up from the monitor. Maybe he should have been paying more attention. "Like I said, you don't have to," he repeated.

L's words had somewhat bothered him in that, yes he'd been staring at the bookshelf, but he did not need to offer to get him the key. Even though Raito would not have terribly minded looking through them -- that was still not the point. He was given enough and he did not appreciate L trying to give him any more. To some extent, he felt a little insulted by the gesture, even if there were good intentions behind it, Raito would rather not be further indebted by whimsical niceties.

**…………………**

_"Without a doubt, princes become greater when they overcome difficulties and obstacles that are imposed on them; and therefore Fortune, especially when she wishes to increase the reputation of a new prince, creates enemies for him and has them take action against him so that he will have the chance to overcome them and to climb higher up the ladder his enemies have brought him. Therefore many judge that a wise prince must, whenever he has the occasion, foster with cunning some hostility so that in stamping it out his greatness will increase at such."_

**……………………**

Raito glanced down at his watch as he left the library; it was five minutes past ten.

In the middle of hacking into L's laptop, he had been confident that he could wrap things up in an hour or two. An erroneous assumption, as he had reached that conclusion at about noon, and now it was ten at night.

Maybe he should have used his time more wisely. He had actually taken a break at three and had moved L's furniture around, simply for the fact that his butt had started to complain and he needed better support than the floor. He really had no idea how L could just sit there and ignore the desk and chair.

Raito had also done some rearranging of his own on the database he had broken into, reworking most of the instructions, and more importantly, changing the passwords so that only he could gain access to the information from that terminal.

He did not mean it as some slight against L, but he had told him to 'do whatever you want with it' and Raito had a habit of readjusting things to suit him more than conforming. It was not only more practical, but there was something very enticing about breaking down L's construct and rebuilding his own in its place. He tried not to think too hard about that thought -- which was not difficult at all, his stomach more than successfully distracting him.

Raito swung by the kitchen on his way to his room and made up for the skipped meals. He was actually trying to gain back his weight.

Seventeen-year-old him had been about 120, which was healthy for a boy his height, but which was not the case anymore. Fortunately his clothes hid the weight loss, but it did not take away his awareness of frailty, the fact that he felt exhausted right now, even though it was only ten at night.

Raito absolutely hated that feeling.

He could not do anything about it now, but if he continued to eat and started exercising regularly, he would be able to return to his previous weight. He supposed this vacation-whatever was as much of a necessity for him as it was for L. His mind might be strong enough to handle whatever was thrown his way, but his body had its limits, and right now, it needed rest and nutrition to build itself back up again.

Climbing the first step, Raito stopped midway as he noticed the light on in one of the classrooms down the hall. The children at Wammy House must have a curfew, but it was probably more of a suggestion than an enforced rule. Not caring one bit, he resumed up the stairwell, ready to turn in for the night, but suddenly a loud crash made him halt.

He looked back at the lit classroom.

Raito had always known that his curiosity, when peaked, was hard to dissuade from a course of action, so it was no surprise when he found himself in front of door.

Scattered over the white floor of classroom were colored blocks, which were most likely the culprit behind the loud noise. The boy that Raito had been introduced to as "Near" was sitting at the center of the chaos. He had an airplane in his hand.

_Well what did we have here?_

Raito put on his "concerned" face as he approached the boy. It had not been his intention to stick around if he had walked in on some kid simply being clumsy, but now that he knew it was Near, his opinion was quick to change.

From L's conversation with that little blond boy this morning, he had learned that _this one_ was actually at the head of the pack. The detective had never distinguished, upon introductions, who exactly his immediate successor was. He had presented them both as "front-runners" but Raito had wanted a specific number, _not_ a grouping.

Yes, test scores were sometimes inaccurate in judging a person's abilities, but to him it was the best way of determining success. He disagreed wholeheartedly with L's little speech about numbers not mattering, for it made a huge difference when you were in second place.

"Are you okay?" Raito asked, feigning worry. "I heard a loud noise, so…"

"I'm fine," he answered tersely, and whizzed the airplane over the wreckage of colored blocks.

"That's good to know. That noise actually startled me."

"Okay," he said, eyes not once leaving the airplane.

Good god, this one actually had worse conversational skills than L. Frankly, he had never expected to meet someone that could challenge L in how oblivious he appeared to the world around him, but here it was, sitting in front of him and making airplane sounds.

Raito would have laughed, but there was a good chance he would not be able to stop once he started. It also, more importantly, might not help with drawing conversation out of this tacit little boy. He wanted to at least grasp a part of his personality. Near was L's successor – he might not be anywhere close to them in intellectual prowess, but that did not mean Raito was not intrigued by finding out his potential.

Crouching down so he was at his level, Raito looked around at the toys scattered on the floor.

There were multiple fighter-jets lying about, all plastic and cheap imitations, most of their colors not even attempting to match up with the genuine article.

Although there was one, a model-type by the looks of it, painted in grays and dull blues, a splitting image of a Boeing Harrier II, with even two Royal Air force pilots in the cockpit. Unlike the rest that were carelessly set aside, this one was arranged on its wheels, looking as if it were ready to take off at any moment.

"…a GR-7A – it looks just like the real thing. It even has all the armaments: the Aden cannons, gravity bomb, maverick, rocket pod…" Raito stopped listing and gave the toy a closer look, "…but I don't see the Joint Reconnaissance Pod anywhere."

Near looked up.

Raito smiled at him. "I guess it doesn't matter. It can do with or without it, especially if you're trying to replicate the older versions."

When he was six, his father used to buy toy models for him constantly, but like everything else that had come before it, he had quickly moved past that phase and was later more interested in the telescope he had received for Christmas that year. Raito had gone through many phases in his life, so he would like to think that he had a bit of knowledge about everything.

Near had seemed to have forgotten about the aircraft in his hand. He dropped it to the floor without flinching at the noise it made upon impact, and instead turned his attention to the fighter-jet in question. He picked it up, the plastic used to simulate the glass over the cockpit now at eyelevel so he was staring directly at it.

He glanced back at him, furtively; curls of hair shading the voids of his eyes. He suddenly out-stretched a pale hand, the fighter-jet grasped in the palm of it.

"Here."

Raito felt a vague déjà vu come over him. "That's okay," he said, hands up to refuse the offer.

Near did not seem to understand and dropped it in his lap without another word. Raito stared down at it, somewhat confused as to what had just happened. It could be that he was irritated that someone had pointed out a mistake, and because of that, he did not want the toy anymore. Though that did not explain why he was suddenly giving him another one…

Well, L did say to "play nice" but he didn't think he meant it literally.

"No, you keep that one," Raito said, placing the toy gently back in the pile. He seriously had no idea what he had done to trigger this, but he supposed it was better than getting the cold shoulder. "It's Near, right?" he asked belatedly, an attempt to establish more familiarity between them.

The boy nodded and oddly began to play with his hair, the circular motion of index and thumb causing ringlets to form out of the white strands. Raito noticed he had glanced over to the grandfather clock in the corner, his pointer finger ceasing, and in one encompassing motion he stretched out his arms and scooped up all the toys he could carry, standing awkwardly with the bulk before toddling off.

There were still plenty of toys strewn about that he had not bothered to pick up. Raito wondered if he was going to make a second trip or if he would simply leave them there for someone else to clean up; and observing his terribly slow pace and how he occasionally dropped a toy on his way to the door, it was highly likely that the second of the two was going to happen.

Sighing, Raito began gathering the remaining toys together. He did not make it a habit of cleaning up after people since they would expect it of him on a regular basis. In spite of this, he had occasionally found himself picking up after L and fussing at him for no apparent reason, even though his intentions had been to leave it alone. He supposed the detective just bugged him on multiple levels.

It took a while to reach Near's room, his door, the last one down the hallway. The white-haired boy walked in and dropped his toys on the floor, again not caring about the loud noise it made, or the fact that it might startle someone awake in a neighboring room. Upon seeing the interior of his room, Raito now understood why he was so careless with his things.

Toys took up the entire floor space; the bed was even acting as a shelf for all his playthings. It was so bad that Raito was certain he could drop the burden in his hands anywhere he wanted and it would make no difference.

"So you work for L?" Near asked, unexpectedly.

Raito, frankly too surprised at the mess in front of him, did not immediately reply. He placed the toys close to the inside of the entrance, because there was no way in hell he was stepping into that room. "That's right."

Somehow navigating a way through the maze of his playthings, Near climbed onto his bed, knocking toys off in the process. "How old would you be?" he inquired, finger returning to twist around in his hair.

Raito smiled at the question. Apparently, he wasn't the only one that wanted to know a little something about the other. "How old do I look?" he asked.

"Eighteen."

Good guess. "Nineteen," he corrected. He did not see the point in hiding his age when it was written all over his face. "And how old would you be?" They might hide their real names and identities, but Raito doubted anyone at this institution hid their ages.

"Thirteen." Near let go off the strand caught on his finger, turning it into a spiral. "You're really young to be working for L." He looked away from the lock of hair twirled around his finger and towards him.

_'This coming from you,'_ Raito felt like saying, but smiled instead.

Obviously this had nothing to do with age, and more to do with the fact that L had suddenly hired, or taken someone in, that was in no way affiliated with this institution. It was normal for everyone to be curious and question it, especially the children at the top. Being suspicious was most likely second nature for these kids. After all, L was the patron of this little freak show. Raito was only surprised that no one had approached him instead of the other way around.

"Did you help him with the Kira case?"

Though this one was more than making up for it. To think, Raito had actually believed he was shy. He had certainly come out of his shell as soon as they reached his bedroom.

"It goes without saying," he answered, since L had been speaking to Misa in Japanese. But this kid already knew that. He was simply building up to ask him more personal questions.

"It was rough," he lied. "L really needed all the help he could get. But I'm sorry, I don't think I should be talking to you about any of this. It's confidential, so L might get mad," he said, somewhat cutely.

_That ought to shut him up._

Near did not say anything, switching hands to tug at the other side of his grayish locks.

Inevitably -- if Raito had let this conversation continue -- Near would have asked him under what circumstances he had met L. A college freshman, right out of high school, meeting the world-class detective, L? How exactly would that come about?

Well, there was really only one answer. You got the world-class detective's attention, not by any of your outstanding merits, but by sticking out as a suspect, because realistically, L would have never allowed an outsider into his investigation unless he wanted to keep an eye on him. If anyone thought about it, they'd reach this conclusion. It was that basic.

But even though such a conclusion was simple, these kids had no reason to suspect him of being Kira. The chances were 1 in one million. It was probably a fraction of that, simply because L had brought him here of his own volition. To an outside (and inside) perspective, Kira was L's enemy, so it made absolutely no sense that he would bring such a hated foe to a place that should have been kept secret from him. If anything, Kira was the last person that anyone would think to be staying here.

Raito was completely safe, or to put it more accurately, "Kiyoshi" was completely safe. Raito Yagami, on the hand, no longer even existed. Any trace of him had been erased from record, so that the only place he was remembered was in a three-bedroom, two-story house in Tokyo.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't answer your questions, but if it's any consolation it was nice talking to you." The bland look Raito was met with definitely made it clear that there was no consolation going on here.

Turning to leave, Raito heard the sound of creaking. Near was climbing down from his bed and meandering towards him. He reached down into the toy pile that Raito had carried, taking out the fighter-jet that he had given to him earlier.

"You're forgetting this," he drawled, tossing it over to Raito, who caught it on reflex.

"You can return it to me tomorrow," Near said, heading back to his bed.

Oh, so that was why he was so persistent in giving him this toy. He wanted an excuse to make small talk with him so he could pry.

_This little smartass…_

It seemed he was not the only one who had piqued the other's interest. Raito thought about dropping the toy in the hallway and dashing any hope of a next encounter, but it would be unwise to be hostile right off the bat.

He was no longer his own person and doing anything to jeopardize the fragile situation he was currently in would be foolish. He would have to be careful around these children, but he would especially have to be careful around L.

Speaking of which, Raito thought, as he left Near's playpen and came back to his own room. L was slouching in front of his door and had only minimally straightened when he saw him approaching.

"I see you have finished."

"About an hour ago," Raito said tersely. The detective looked like he wanted to know what exactly he'd been up to for the past hour. The fighter-jet in his hand seemed to answer that question for him.

"You are getting acquainted with Near?"

Well, he could put it that way. Raito thought of it more as feeling out the stock. "I guess…"

"Then would you mind giving me your first impression of him."

Raito glanced over at the detective. Why L was standing in front of his room was beyond him. It could be that he wanted to know the results of his hacking endeavor. Though it should be a given that he would be able to break into it, despite how long it took.

"I didn't talk to him long enough to ascertain anything."

"That toy in your hand says otherwise," L replied.

Raito took out the key to open his door, ignoring what L was implying. At least these rooms afforded some privacy, despite the paper-thin walls guarding it.

The tinkling of sound made him look up from unlocking his door. L was holding a key in front of his face and shaking it back and forth like bell. "I was planning to give this to you free of charge, but now I am slowly changing my mind."

Raito eyed the key. "What's that?"

"It opens the lock in Roger's bookshelf. I will trade you it for a brief impression of Near."

Raito eyed the key again. "I didn't realize you were having such a difficult time choosing between your successors," he said bluntly, cutting to the root of the problem. "Are they that close in ability?"

L stopped jingling the keychain. "They excel at different things, but this institution unfortunately will not be able to test the scope of those abilities. There are many limitations when it comes to an environment such as this, and however much I try to compensate for it, I cannot get the results that will make my decision any easier."

"Then my opinion won't matter much."

"That is not what I want to hear," L told him, shaking the key again. Raito had an urge to snatch it from him and chuck it at his face. "You're very good at sketching out the personalities of those around you, so I think I would like you to help me with my choice. It's one of the reasons why I brought you here. You see, contrary to what everyone thinks, it is not Mello that gives me problems. He is polite and very hardworking."

Raito wondered if by "polite" L meant likes to glare a lot.

"He has a temper, but can be very mild-mannered when no one provokes him, or Near is not within his vicinity. I can handle Mello, but Near is not as open to my presence, so getting him in the mood to talk is difficult and therefore I cannot judge his character as accurately as I would be able to with Mello. I blame his reticence more on apathy than I do on any sort of intentional hostility. I feel that he respects me, but that does not necessarily translate into 'enjoys the company of.'"

_You're__ kidding_, Raito thought, finding it a bit humorous, but not letting it show on his face. "So you want me to tell you what your little protégé and I talked about?"

"Yes, please. Details would be nice." He jingled the key again, and Raito wished that L would just stop shaking the damn thing at him for one second.

"He kept asking me questions about myself. Then he gave me this," Raito lifted the aircraft, "so I could return it to him tomorrow. It looks like he wants to have another chat, and it all seems harmless enough, but I think you telling them that I'm working for you is going to cause unnecessary complications in the future."

"Yes, it will," L said, completely unperturbed by that thought. "But you were saying…"

Raito narrowed his eyes at the man across from him. "I'm kind of tired, so I think I'll finish telling you tomorrow." He opened his door, but looked back at him. "Unless it's that important, then I'll just invite you in."

"Ah…no," L said, backing off rather quickly at his proposition. Raito felt the immediate change in his actions. "That's okay. I should go now," he mumbled and turned around to leave.

Well, that was new. Usually L had a problem giving up on a topic when he was middle of it. Stubborn ass that he was, Raito was surprised at how easily he had let it go.

Though it could be that he had spoken too soon, Raito thought, as he watched L turn back around, his movements a little awkward this time. "The key," he said, scratching his arm, "I forgot to give it to you."

Raito felt a frown creasing his mouth downward, but he held out his palm nonetheless. "Thanks" he said, too tired to decline L for the second time that day.

"I should go," L said, looking around, and appearing suddenly very ill at ease. "Good night."

Raito did not return the words with any of his usual faked politeness. Instead he remained silent, watching L rather openly. He supposed it was his stare that was causing the detective so much discomfort right now, but Raito did not feel the need to look away out of consideration.

When he thought about it, he no longer had to act a certain way in front of L. There were many times during the investigation in which forced courtesy had governed his behavior more than he would have liked. And things that he had generally wanted to say were curbed by things he thought would sound good coming from him.

But surely that did not need to be the case anymore.

**

* * *

****A/n:** Argh, still feels like transition chapters to me, which is again, not much fun to write because things have to adhere to a certain slow pacing and unfolding, and everyone's so damn moody in comparison to the children that are generally happy to have L back home, safe and sound. And I suppose me constantly quoting from "The Prince" is not helping the mood either. But isn't there just something inherently princely about Raito? I'm surprised that Obata didn't just cut to chase and in one of those egotistical thought-bubbles that Raito tends to have when he's plotting, draw him with a crown and a scepter, maybe sitting pretty in a throne. Really, I'm flabbergasted it never happened. Truly and utterly flabbergasted. 

**The Prince (1532)** – a political treatise by the Italian diplomat, Niccolò Machiavelli. It advices a prince or an aspiring prince on how to ascend the throne and effectively maintain his power in concerns to his kingdom, his people, and his enemies. Its tactics are known to be especially shrewd, hence the term for which it spawned "Machiavellian" or deceitful. It emphasizes that the Prince should be willing to do_ anything_, however cruel or inhumane, in order to keep his power and keep the peace within his kingdom.


	22. His silhouette

**A/n:** It seems I've confused my readers, so in an attempt to make things clear, I'll explain. The reason why I chose to have Raito not touch the notebook again and reclaim his memories that way is because eventually -- 490 days later to be precise -- he'd forget them again, since he wouldn't be in contact with the deathnote. If L had gone that way, he'd have to touch Raito every 490 days with a piece of the deathnote, and Raito might lose his memories and not know what's going on, but L's not going to take that chance and continuously bring a piece of the deathnote near him, even with a memory-less Raito. Obviously, they don't have to worry about this for Misa, because she doesn't need to remember. Also as far as memory-less Raito goes, in this story I choose to portray him as more accepting of what he was, because I see it this way. Raito – past and present -- doesn't enjoy it when people embarrass him, and since he detests it, the news that 'he was Kira but he was caught by L' is going to come as the biggest embarrassment that he's ever experienced. I see Raito as trying to explain away his faults with the logic of 'If I did that, then I must have had a great reason for doing it.' I can't actually see him being repentant when he feels like he's been done some great injustice; he's been taken away from his family, his home, and he has to devote his entire life to someone that tortured him for three months. Or that's my reasoning anyway...

* * *

There was a veranda at the other end of the orphanage. 

Raito slipped out into the porch and finally found the person he'd searched for all morning seated in one of the chairs and hunched over a small table. He was staring at a chessboard.

"Oh, hello" L greeted.

"What are you doing?" Raito asked, without the faintest pleasantness in his voice.

L looked down at the board and then returned his gaze to him. "I'm trying to beat myself in a game of chess," he said, face completely serious, "would you like to join me?"

Not really knowing what to say to that, Raito simply took the other seat, and watched L as he organized the black pieces on his side of the board.

"I'm assuming you would rather white," he said.

Raito looked at the remaining pieces. He'd come here to resume their conversation from yesterday, but if L would rather play chess, then he was not going to argue, and after arranging his own pieces, Raito moved a pawn forward two spaces.

"Did you return his toy?" L asked, also moving a pawn forward.

It seemed he wanted to talk after all. "Yes…but when I gave it to him he dropped it on the floor and told me he didn't need it anymore." The incident with Near this morning surprisingly had not made him angry, but that was probably due to the blank face the child wore upon telling him the news.

"He does not have favorites when it comes to his things and he will quickly move onto another when the current toy begins to bore him." L swiped the unguarded pawn that Raito had been using as a lure. "Did he say anything else to you?"

Raito moved his bishop. "He asked me what room I was staying in."

L's hand faltered over the piece he was about to pick up. "Your room?"

"Mmhm," Raito answered. Near knew which room he was staying in. He more than likely knew the entire layout of the second floor, so it was impossible for him to miss the room he was staying in when it was opposite of his. Oddly enough, all Near's questions that morning had been like that: totally obvious. "He's strange…" _like you_, Raito was about to point out, but kept it to himself.

"He is just curious about what I have brought home," L answered, phrasing it like Raito was some new toy. "Put up with it for the time. If this is like seven years ago, then there will be a brief period of activity from him before he calms back down."

Raito looked up from the chessboard, confused now. "Seven years ago?"

"When Mello was brought here," L said, simply leaving it at that.

Raito did not inquire further, turning his attention back to the game.

In no time at all, the beginning and middle game flew by, and the endgame was upon them.

Raito was now analyzing the board and taking some time to make his next move. So far they had played a pretty fast game of chess, using two to three minutes on each turn, so it would not hurt to slow down and give himself more time to think. As he contemplated his next move, Raito propped his chin up and crossed his legs under the table, letting his weight settle more comfortably to one side of his chair.

Black eyes once focused on the game had changed their course and now they were looking across the board at him. L staring was as familiar as the detective himself, so Raito did not pay it any mind and moved his Queen forward.

But after a few minutes, Raito could still feel his eye on him, and something about that started to annoy the brunette. Glances here and there were fine, but when he was silently gawking at him for minutes at a time, then there had be a reason behind it.

Raito shifted in his chair, sighed louder than usual.

He wondered what exactly had triggered this one-sided staring contest between them. Things had been fine up until the last stretch of their game. But the almost comfortable silence had flipped on its head, and now Raito was battling with the oppressive atmosphere more so than he was with their actual chess match.

He should ignore it. He could ignore it.

But he wouldn't. "Do you have something to say?" Raito asked. He looked up from the board and held the detective's stare.

L lowered his eyes. "No, not really."

"Are you sure?" he persisted. He moved his Queen again and stole L's knight away in the process.

"No…" L responded.

Surprised, but not deterred by his answer, Raito asked, "You're not sure?"

"I just don't think it's an appropriate topic for us."

Raito felt his curiosity peaked. "No topics going to ever _really_ be appropriate for us to discuss," considering he was Kira and the person sitting across from him was the one that had caught him, "but even so, I would think you could be a little more frank."

L finally met his gaze, moving his own Queen to intercept.

"Your memory has holes in it."

'Well duh.' Raito eyed him funnily. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"I need to ascertain something, but it's hard for me to do that when you're unaware of it yourself."

Raito moved a rook and claimed L's Queen. "Yes, I don't recall any thoughts that are related to the deathnote. Nor do I recall memories that _actually_ show me with the note, or with me doing something related to it. But I do remember most of what transpired in the last two years. That journal, those tapes, you -- when I got over the initial shock, it was pretty easy to put it together."

"Easy? I know reading it in your own words must have helped considerably, but I think you're too confident of your 'understanding' of the situation. I would have thought you'd have a difficult time accepting what you are, but it seems the opposite has taken place. You are never easy to predict, so I should not be surprised."

Raito bit the inside of his lip. "You make it sound like what I've done is a bad thing. Don't you want me to come to terms with it, or would you rather I just deny it and act casual with you. Hmm?"

"Let us drop this," said the detective, eyes lowered to the board. "I do not want to fight with you about something so small. I would like to think we've matured a little."

'Stupid ass,' Raito thought, and hunched some in his chair.

_"I need to ascertain something, but it's hard for me to do that when you're unaware of it yourself."_

Of course he would be unaware of it when worded like that. Give him some clues at least. Raito wasn't a mind-reader. Sure, the deathnote made him lose a small amount of his memories, but he was fully informed now, and whatever discrepancy lay between him and his past self was negligible, to the point where he felt right – _just_ – in thinking certain things.

If he wasn't aware of something, then it wasn't important enough to be aware of, or written down in that journal. To keep his personality intact, his past self had written down things that he thought important, and kept the things that he thought superfluous to a minimum, creating unwritten rules for him to follow without having to actually express it.

So whatever problems he had with "awareness" was simply up for debate.

Stupid L, questioning his grasp of the situation. He wasn't in his shoes, so he could not possibly know how he was feeling or what he was going through.

Raito shook away those thoughts and concentrated on the game. L's vagueness was making him irritated. He felt a strong urge to punch him, but restrained himself and did the next best thing.

"Checkmate."

L glanced up at him, glanced back at the board, the space between his eyes slightly furrowing, like he was displeased.

'That's what you get.' Raito leaned back in his chair and looked at him; face slightly upturned as he did so. He watched as the detective began to point to certain squares on the board, like he was replaying the game in his head.

"I would like a rematch."

Raito did not immediately answer, finger prodding at L's King, toying with it. He'd never cared to rub it in people's face when they lost to him. Unworthy opponents that they amounted to, it was useless to flaunt his victory when it was assured.

Raito believed in always being a gracious winner.

However, today would be the exception.

"If you want to lose again," he replied, tipping over the piece under his finger, and watching it rotate in a half-circle that eventually came to a stop.

L reached over the board and righted his toppled King. "Is that so?"

"Well, I've never lost a game of chess before, so I don't think I want to start now." Raito smiled, completely self-satisfied with himself. L glowered and opened his mouth to reply, but the screen door interrupted him.

"So this is where you are," Misa announced, walking over to them.

Raito turned to look at the blond, face gone as plain as a new canvas. Like clockwork, L had also restored his poker face, the same need arising within him to cover his previous expression and replace it with the usual dopey-looking one.

He noticed Misa was holding a plate of brownies in her hand, and without a second thought, he reached over and took one out of the pile. He'd had a light breakfast, so passing up on dessert was not on the menu for the today.

"I hope you like it," the blond said as she sat in the chair between them. "When Misa bakes, the only ingredient she uses is love."

'An apparently the whole bag of sugar,' Raito thought sourly and made himself swallow.

L, who had been staring at the plate rather intently for all this time, pointed to himself so the blond would notice. "What about me, Misa-san?" he said, voice also taking on that untroubled tone that he so seldom used when they were alone.

"What about, Ryuu-zaki?" Misa said, mimicking him. She gave him a suspicious look and followed it by chastisement as she noticed his expression. "No," she said, attempting to be stern, "these are special brownies that I made especially for _someone_. You can't have them because they're filled with love."

"But I thought Misa-san cared for me too," L said, trying to guilt-trip her into sharing.

"Friendship-love is different from romance-love," she explained, all serious-like. "I can't share these with just any one."

"That is unfortunate," L said while eating one of her brownies.

"Ah!" she shouted, pointing at him accusingly, "Spit it out!"

L answered her by shoving another one into his mouth. "That would be an insult to the brownies, Misa-san. These are delicious, by the way." L crammed yet another in his mouth, crumbs falling on his shirt.

Between now and two minutes ago, when L had looked like he wanted to tell him something especially nasty, Raito could not help but notice how on-edge the detective became in his presence. Of course, Raito could not deny he was the same, but he thought he was handling it much better than L. Then again, he could not overlook the fact that L had a soft spot for teasing Misa. He seemed to enjoy egging her on and Raito could only translate it to the schoolyard philosophy of 'I like you.'

"Leave some for Raito," Misa complained, no longer attempting to stop the pilfering detective. She looked over at the brunette who had not touched the plate for a second time. "Don't you like them?"

Raito indifferently gazed down at it. He had always made it a habit of being nice to girls, but since he knew Misa, he had really stopped caring what she specifically thought about him. It wasn't like she was judging him in any way. He didn't have to impress her with politeness or even the occasional white lie.

"You bake with too much sugar," Raito bluntly told her, "Learn how to use a measuring cup."

There was a second of silence -- he assumed indignant silence -- before Misa cried into his ear "You're so mean!" She slapped him right in the arm, and Raito grabbed her easily by the other hand before she could hit him with that one too.

"Do not bully, Misa-san. She is half our size and she has brought us brownies," L commented, the plate now on his side of the table as he stuffed his face.

It wasn't like he was bullying her. She was just a lot weaker than him. Anyway, if L wanted to tell him what to do with Misa so badly, then he'd best be ready to get actually bullied in her stead.

"I'm not being _mean_," Raito stated. Mean would be allowing Misa to continue feeding this to people. He was doing humanity a service. "I won't eat it if it tastes bad. If you paid more attention and used a cookbook then it would turn out edible." Raito watched L devouring the last piece.

Well, edible for the rest of them.

Misa sniffed. He assumed she was hurt. "I'll try harder next time."

Raito gave the blond a strange look.

He knew she was the second Kira, but why she was so devoted to him was beyond him. Killing the murderer of her parents should have its limits -- unless she was the type that never forgot when someone was "kind" to her, even when that kindness was a complete fluke.

He knew her memory had been wiped clean and L had not told her anything about her past. He assumed what she felt for him now was a remnant of her other self. Extreme emotions, he had noticed, seemed to have a hard time dying down, even when the power of the notebook intervened.

How troublesome…

Well, it wasn't his problem. She was cute, and she would probably be good for relieving some of his bodily frustration, but Raito was certainly not going down that path. He hated commitment and she would most likely get the wrong idea if he did her.

"Is Misa-san having fun with the children?" L asked out of the blue and pushed the empty dishware over to the girl.

At the mention of children, Misa seemed to perk up, the upset look on her face clearing away. "They pull my hair sometimes," she said, as if that was a good thing. "I have to wear it in a ponytail now. See?"

She turned to Raito, pointing to herself with a smile on her face. "Does it look nice?"

Well, she was quick to forgive. "Looks nice…" Raito said, going along. Though he was confused as to why she was letting kids randomly pull her hair? Did he miss something?

"They love Misa," the girl bragged. Then she slapped her hand over her mouth, appearing to realize something. "Oh, I never told you!"

Raito assumed she was talking to him.

"But I couldn't find you yesterday. Where were you?" Misa questioned and Raito shrugged in response. Thankfully, she did not ask for more of explanation than that, more excited to tell him what he had missed. "Yesterday, I got to play with kids _this_ little." Her hand hovered about three feet over the floor. "They're so cute!"

"Misa-san is alluding to the three and four-year olds that are located in the other wing of this institution," L explained, noticing his confused expression. "There are about five of them. Roger is usually the one that supervises them when Miss Bethany -- the other caretaker -- is overseeing the older children. Though they often switch because Roger can only last about an hour before he puts them down for a nap."

"They're so tiny," Misa said, still stuck on their sizes. She had probably never been around small children before, or it could be she was surprised to find something actually shorter than her. "And they pronounced that name you gave me funny, but then an hour later they were all calling me 'Minako.' I'm learning theirs too, but English names are weird."

"Since this institution should not exist, or should remain secret, Watari does not wish to bring in other caretakers," L told him, picking up where Misa had stopped. "It is a great deal of work for two people, but they are both very capable, and the older children can practically take care of themselves."

L glanced over at the blond still deep in thought. "But it does not hurt to have an extra pair of helping hands, especially when Misa-san has graciously offered to help Roger with the smaller children." The detective scratched his head. "Though I do not understand why you want to look after them. You could simply relax like the rest of us. I hope you do not feel pressured by Roger. He can be very pushy sometimes."

Misa snapped out of her thoughts. "Don't say that about Roger-san," she said. "He's been nothing but nice to me. He even gave me a copy of the key to Raito's room when I asked him for it," she blurted out.

Raito blinked at her. "You have what?"

"Nothing," Misa said, coy smile on her face. She got up from her seat, giggling. "Misa is not telling you where she hid it. The only way to find it is if you search me." Picking up the empty plate, she practically skipped towards the door, a pretty hum in her voice.

She twirled around to face them, hands mischievously behind her back. "I'm going back to play with everyone," and by "everyone" she probably meant the brats located in the other wing of the building. "If you want to come Raito, you're more than welcome to. I can be the mommy and you can be the daddy."

Raito deadpanned.

Sometimes he wondered if Misa said things like this to aggravate him on purpose.

"Sorry, Misa-san," L cut in, "I have a job for Raito-kun to do, but after he is finished, I will happily give him to you for the day."

God, what was he? Some pass-around toy now. Did his opinion even matter?"

"Ryuuzaki is such a slave-driver, making my Raito work so hard." She began to nod her head, in total agreement with herself. "But Misa understands. She is patient like that, and training to be a detective sounds like hard work." The blond balled her hands into fists, the look on her face silently chanting 'tough-it-out.' "Good luck, Raito. Misa is on your side, so don't lose to him." She disappeared out the door, and Raito wondered if the blond had gotten the wrong idea when L had told her a month ago that he was going to work for him.

* * *

They were standing outside one of the classrooms near the entrance. Raito looked in and saw children seated at tables, some working away at different puzzles, others reading books or scribbling away at paper. 

The man that Raito had come to know as 'Roger' was seated next to a little girl, observing her as she solved what looked like a Rubik cube on steroids.

L chose that time to enter and took a seat across from the older man, Raito naturally following him in.

"Where were you?" Roger's voice held more than pleasantries at the moment. "I would have liked some help during the morning classes."

"I was busy giving a hand to Kiyoshi."

Roger did not look convinced, appearing to be familiar with L's antics. "I suppose…but maybe you could give the children some guidance in their studies. It does not hurt for them to have that once in a while."

L made a face. "There are other things that I would like to attend to, but if it sounds like I am abandoning you, that is not the case, for I have brought someone that is far better suited to these kinds of things than I am."

And that was how Raito ended up spending the rest of his morning.

L was sitting across from him, looking over papers that he had requested from Roger before the man's departure and stuffing his face with mille-feuille, while Raito was stuck 'supervising' -- as the detective had put it earlier when he'd persuaded Roger to leave the care of brats to them (him).

"Kiyoshi? So how do you translate each of the kanji that make up your name?"

Raito tried to ignore the little boy beside him, who for the past ten minutes had taken up an interest in his name and abandoned the fold puzzle that he had previously wanted help with.

"The 'two' and 'kettle lid' are easy, but what about the third kanji, tsuchi – which do you use to translate it: soil, earth, ground…?"

"I use earth," Raito said, attempting to remain civil. He solved the puzzle and then handed it over, expecting the little boy to get the hint.

"And shiru?" the boy persisted, ignoring his hint all together.

Raito sighed. "I use sap."

"But doesn't shiru mean 'pus' too?"

Leave it to a child to come up with that meaning first.

"What about gatsu?"

"I translate it to moon, and for ao I use blue," Raito said before he could ask him about that one too.

The boy laughed, like something was funny. "Two moons above blue earth look like kettle lids filled with sap. It's like a lyric in a song."

'And while you're at it, you can write a haiku and stick it on my forehead,' Raito thought, wondering why he was stuck with babysitting. L could call it "supervising" all he wanted, it didn't change the fact that he was eating cake and Raito was left answering questions that really had nothing to do with the original inquiry.

"Thomas, I thought you're problem was serious," L said, finally looking up from his papers after two hours of flat-out ignoring him. "If you are playing around then please vacant your seat so I can sit there."

"Huh? But I'm not done yet."

"Yes, you are," L said as he went behind the boy and lifted him out of his seat by the under-arms. He set him down behind the bench. "It is recess time, so go inform the others. I will trust you all to not kill or maim each other without adult supervision."

The boy ran off, not offended in the least, and most of the children also left the room in a hurry.

Raito watched them go. Two hours of little boys and girls asking him questions that really were none of their business had made him a little cranky. He'd gone through the motions of showing those that _actually_ had problems how to solve them, but the majority had been more interested in seeing how smart "Kiyoshi" was.

It was a given that the person working for L would be intelligent, but Raito would rather not broadcast his IQ if he had a choice. It didn't seem like a smart thing to do.

L took a seat beside him, a little closer than expected. "Here you go," he said and dropped a folder in his lap. Raito looked down at it and then at the detective.

"Psychological profile on Near. It will help if you are up to speed."

"So that's what you've been doing this entire time," said Raito, motioning to the small stack on the other side of the table.

"I have to keep myself up to date if I am to make a valid choice. Roger collects information on all the children, and it is my job to go over it and point out behaviors that I feel would be beneficial or detrimental to becoming the next L."

Raito began to thumb through Near's file. Test scores, more test scores; some scant comments about his playing habits, where he was usually seen… Raito skipped ahead. It said he interacted with everyone on a minimal level; if asked a question, he was usually very straightforward about it. However, there've been times in the past where he's been seen talking to Mello for long periods of time, _or more accurately_, the latter had been yelling and attempting to get a response out of him. Roger noted that he deals well with confrontation from the blond. There were more scribbles about his past interactions with Mello, which Roger seemed to be paying close attention to. It also said he has an apparent distaste for the outdoors; he's prone to getting sick during the winter, and has mild asthma.

"This file is small."

"Near generally stays out of sight, so he does not give anyone the chance to observe him."

Raito glanced over at the other file that L had been holding onto. "And let me guess, that one belongs to Mello." It was twice the size of the others.

"He frequently plays with the other children, so it is very easy to observe him. He also does not hide his nature." L picked up another file that was as thin as the first. "This one belongs to Matt. As you can see, he is not as easy to study either. He is seen outside even less than Near and has a disposition to keep quiet when Mello is not around."

And as L had said, his behavioral file was sparse, but to make up for it, there were extensive notes about his interactions with Mello, more so than Near. Roger seemed to also be paying close attention to how Mello affected this boy too.

Fingers carelessly leafing through the Near's folder again, he scanned the types of problems on each test. Most tests he scored perfectly, but occasionally, there would be a problem or two that he would leave blank.

L noticed he was staring at one of them.

"A says to S and P: I have chosen two integers x, y; such that 1 is less than x and x is less than y, and x plus y is less than or equal to 100. In a moment, I will inform S only of s equals x plus y, and P only of p equals x times y. These announcements remain private. You are required to determine the pair (x, y).

"He acts as said. The following conversation now takes place: P says: 'I do not know it.' S says: 'I knew you didn't.' P says: 'I now know it.' S says: 'I now also know it.' Determine the pair (x, y)." The detective finished reading and looked at him, like he was expecting him to answer, and Raito was never one to disappoint in that regard.

"P and S stand for Product and Sum. The statements that seem completely useless are actually very helpful. For example, the numbers cannot be 14 and 16: if they were, their sum would be 30. This is also the sum of 7 and 23. If those were the numbers, their product would have been 161 which, as these are prime numbers, only is the product of 7 and 23. So Product would have known the numbers, and therefore Sum -- if the sum had been 30 -- would have considered it possible that Product knew the numbers. But Sum said that he knew that Product didn't know the numbers. So the numbers cannot be 14 and 16. Sum and Product learn enough, by eliminations, to be able to determine the pair of numbers, which is (4, 13) –"

A noise at the door made both of them look up in time to see Mello standing in the entrance; face a cross between wariness and hostility.

"I see you chose to study in your room today," L greeted him, and Mello's expression changed, as if he was suddenly aware of the disagreeable face he was making at them, or more accurately, at Raito.

"…yeah, I guess," the boy answered, looking at them more intently than his casual tone implied.

"Then you do not want to miss the soccer game outside."

He nodded but continued to stare.

Raito hoped he hadn't heard them talking. It wasn't like it could hurt him in anywhere if Mello did hear their conversation, but he just didn't like anyone paying particular attention to them, as this child seemed to be doing now. It made him feel uncomfortable. Speaking of which, he and L were sitting a little too close for comfort. Raito straightened and shifted away, making it appear as if he was reaching over for another file.

Mello took another longer look at them before vanishing from the doorway, leaving Raito with a feeling of awkwardness that he could not place, even if he wanted to.

* * *

He and L had spent practically the entire day together, and the detective hadn't gotten around to letting him go to see Misa like he had promised. But knowing the blond, she'd be waiting for him when he got to his room. 

Ambling along at his own pace, Raito stopped by one of the windows, noticing the outline of an adjacent building.

"That would be the church," L told him. "It was built before the orphanage. Though many of the children don't necessarily associate it with religion. Actually, since it's cut-off from the main building, they more often than not use it as a study spot; all they would have to do is lock themselves in the alter room at the back. There are also many good spots for hide-and-go seek," L added, wistfully.

"So you grew up here…" Raito found himself saying, eyes focused on the jagged shadows made by the surrounding trees. The fact that L had grown up here was already established, but it was what had come out of his mouth, and Raito would not force any other topic when he didn't feel like it.

"Yes…does it shock you that I'm an orphan?"

"No," Raito said bluntly. There was no shock here. It was easier picturing L without parents than it was with them -- with a family and a home situation alike his. This orphanage suited him, suited the labels Raito had placed on him, and the thoughts that always resided at the back of his mind:

'You're nothing like me…'

Raito watched the clouds roll away from the moon, the shadows of each cross that crested the bars of the gates elongating across the yard, growing towards the house like branches on an old tree.

"I thought it wouldn't." L shuffled a step closer, sliding pale hands in his pocket, and staring down at the floor.

"You were born in England?" A lot of the kids here didn't have British accents, which meant they were either really good at hiding it or Watari searched outside the country for prodigies. L spoke English with an accent, but he could very well be doing that to blend in, as he was used to, jumping from country to country.

"Yes, but not in Winchester. I believe I was born in central London…in Kings Cross."

Kings Cross… unlike the name, it wasn't one of the richer areas in London. In fact, it was known for its red light district and drug abuse. Raito thought he should drop their conversation at that, but the daze that he'd been in was slowly giving way to curiosity. "…you're not sure?"

L shrugged. "Well, I could have been merely abandoned there. Though I'm pretty sure that's the place, as it has a high level of prostitution, and leaving a baby out in the winter is one way of getting rid of it."

Raito blinked, thought about what had just been said to him…

'Oh my god.'

"I suppose that would be another for our 'inappropriate topics that should not be discussed' list."

Raito tried not to stare. "No…I asked…" He'd been curious to know some things about the detective. He'd thought it was kind of unfair how this one person knew a lot about him, but he was still in the dark about many things in regards to him. Maybe L was trying to even things out between them a little with the gesture, but he was so clumsy and factual about it, like he was narrating someone else's history.

"So did Watari pick you up from…" wherever you'd been abandoned. Raito thought it was the meager politeness within him that had stopped him from saying it – this might be L, but it just sounded so damn tactless.

"No," L replied, reading his mind. "I was found by someone else and brought to a nearby orphanage, so it wasn't until I was four that I came to this institution."

Raito felt any remaining questions drift away, like the clouds in the sky. He could feel L looking at him, maybe waiting for him to add something.

After some minutes, he heard him scratching his calf through his jeans, the noise oddly distracting. "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable, but I thought I should tell you." L scratched his leg some more. "Was it not a good idea?"

Raito shrugged, glancing away from the window for a second. The moon had shrouded itself behind the clouds again, and L's reflection showed up on the glass in front of him, the darkness outside acting like a mirror. He stared at the pane of glass and at the detective that was shown in it.

There was something really odd about how L was staring at the floor, almost like he was staring at his…

Raito blinked, pondered over what he had just thought, and then tried not to frown. He was seeing things if that was the case. Nevertheless, he leaned his forehead against the glass, eyes pinpoints as he studied L. "I think I should head back to my room."

L made a sound of acknowledgement and did not offer more than that.

Raito leaned away from the window more slowly than he needed to. He noticed L's line of sight was moving along with him.

What the – "hell are you doing?" Raito asked, the words escaping his throat before he could naturally put a filter on them. It could be that he was blowing this way out of proportion, but something about this just rubbed him the wrong way. He supposed it was the sudden entrance of things that he'd sooner forget, or how closely it followed their previous conversation and how highly inappropriate that just was.

Staring back him, the detective looked wary, but totally unashamed. "Nothing that would make it okay for you to curse at me, but you are distracting, so maybe you could stop that."

Raito blinked. "You're asking me to stop…_distracting you_?" He was not too happy about L's habit of conveniently reversing the situation. "You're the one that's staring at me inappropriately." This guy was so unbelievable.

"I don't see what's so wrong with looking. Have you forgotten that we've slept together?"

Of course he hadn't, but it wasn't like they'd slept with each other for any other reason than to fuck the other over. "Stop messing around; this isn't funny."

L blinked owlishly at the carpet. "What makes you think I am 'messing' around with you? Why would I do that?"

Raito stared back at him. "Look -- I'm…actually not too sure about this part of what happened," he admitted. The journal had gone into great detail about his plan and how he would kill L, but it had never really touched on how things were going in terms of "sexual progress." It hadn't even mentioned if his original plan was working. It just said that 'L was more than likely aware of why he was having sex with him, but he was not resisting.' Raito had inferred from that line that L was also playing along. There were more than enough passages that suggested this to be the case.

"The journal hadn't gone into specifics about this…"

"So you do not know what happened during our last night together?"

From L's questions, it didn't look like he'd even bothered to read the journal prior to handing it to him. But that was strange. Why wouldn't he read it?

"Of course I do. I remember most of everything…it's just that my thoughts are a little disjointed." There were moments when he'd be thinking and suddenly it would trail off into nothing. He'd been able to fill the gaps in his other memories because of the journal, but just that night…

Raito closed his eyes, trying to recall anything that could give him a clue and drawing a complete blank. He remembers they had sex, but everything before and after that in terms of thoughts were lost to him.

He turned his eyes on the detective, and asked, genuinely wanting to know, "Is there something important that I'm forgetting?"

L stared at him as if he'd sprouted wings. That stunned look, however, was quickly replaced by something that he did not think he'd ever seen on the detective's face:

Defeat.

And as Raito continued to stare at him blankly, the expression once again changed in something different. L shoved his hands into his pockets petulantly.

"Raito-kun screws me over from the grave."

'Where'd that come from?'

L glanced up at him, eyes doleful, even if his expression was not. "I know it is better this way; our future associations will be much easier and I genuinely do want things to be uncomplicated between us...but truthfully, I feel more depressed than hopeful right now. I know you do not mean to be cruel, but your past self is nastier than I give him credit for. Maybe he did this to keep things simple, but I am certain he is still messing with me...even with him long gone..." L started to walk down the hallway, leaving him behind.

Raito stared at the detective's back, both annoyed and frustrated.

'What the fuck?'

* * *

**A/n:** Troubles, troubles... Anyway, this is like part two of an ungoing Q&A in this chapter. About that promise-thing, I never meant to insinuate anything by it. Raito just wanted L to promise him that he wouldn't kill him -- not very romantic (I know) but what do you expect from him. Oh, and if it helps to explain how the memory thing works, just recall when Misa lost her memories and L was questioning her about going to Aoyama. She remembers going, but she doesn't remember why? She remembers the event, but not the thoughts. It's the same thing with Raito now. He won't recall memories that show him with the actual deathnote or thoughts related to it, but he will remember everything else, which explains why he remembers the sex part but not the 'you're in love with me' part. My explaining is overkill, but I don't want anyone to be confused. One last thing, before someone asks me, the Machiavelli quotes are there to remind the reader of what Raito once was, so they'll show up off and on. Okay, I'm sick of hearing myself talk, I'll see you guys next chapter. 

**1.** The problem that Raito was doing is called 'the Impossible Puzzle.' No joke. They're called this because they don't seem to have enough information that would allow them to be solved. As you can see, they're solvable, but it's not an easy task.


	23. The Minor Concessions

Raito woke up, sweaty and breathless, his sleep-fogged eyes groping around in the darkness like his hands, as they searched the lamp on his nightstand to find the switch. Yellow light flooded into the room and Raito let his arm drop limply to his side, the other clutching the fabric over his heart.

Sweat was beading down his throat and collecting on the triangle of skin revealed by the wide neck of his shirt, and feeling uncomfortably hot, he undid the last few buttons that held the flimsy material together.

Tossing his shirt and covers away, Raito laid back on his mattress and closed his eyes in an attempt to fall back asleep.

He was currently aching between his legs, but apathy towards the act of masturbation made him just lie there, staring at the folds in his sheets.

Raito had nothing against touching himself, the act was easy to perform and felt good enough, but without an immediate focus -- a person to channel his desires through, a purpose to heighten the lust -- he didn't really care to improvise with himself.

However, if he was losing sleep over it, practicality said to go to the bathroom and take care of it, and for the past two weeks, that's what he'd been doing.

Though erotic dreams about girls from high school that he had fooled around with, but had not bedded, was hardly considered a "problem" in his book. It was natural. His body needed a way of venting after long periods of stress, and even if his current issues had not stemmed from sex, his body needed no excuse to assert itself under that flag.

Nocturnal fantasizing did not bother Raito in the least.

No, the real trouble began when he started dreaming about those in his immediate vicinity.

For instance, last night he had dreamt about Misa.

And tonight, he had dreamt about L.

Now Raito was perfectly aware of his dilemma here: the 'one of these things is not like the other,' and he certainly was not referring to the fact that Misa was blond.

L always stuck out like a sore thumb wherever he happened to show up and Raito's dreams were no exception. He was a bit troubled over why the detective was making those kinds of late night appearances in his head, but in hindsight, it was really nothing to fret over. L was the only person who he'd actually done it with, so those images were obviously going to be more readily available to him than with anyone else.

Raito swallowed dryly, throat feeling parched and lips slightly cracked.

Standing up from his bed, he padded over to his closet, separating one of his t-shirts from the hanger and pulling it over his head as he slipped out of his door. He realized quite belatedly that he'd forgotten to put jeans on over his boxers.

Oh well…it wasn't like he was naked or anything, and the kitchen was right there.

When he reached his destination, it was not surprisingly empty. Raito poured himself a nice, cold glass of water and finished it in one gulp. He was about to pour himself another when he heard a repetition of incongruent noises that could only be deemed as someone flipping the channel.

It was coming from down the hallway, where the sitting room was located and a television was kept.

Raito wondered who could be up this late. The children usually retired to their rooms at around ten or eleven; Roger went to sleep at nine sharp; and after inviting him into her room and yakking his ear off for a good hour, Misa had collapsed on her bed like she had narcolepsy.

The only person he could think of that he had not listed was L, and by the time Raito had realized what he was doing, he was standing by the entrance of the sitting room.

They were avoiding each other again, which was a whole lot easier than one of them actually confronting the other on that bit of weirdness that happened two weeks ago. Not that he thought he should feel guilty about the incident, even if L had suggested he was the one in the wrong. For god's sake, he didn't even know what was going on, but the detective was still so quick to get annoyed with him. Raito had a mind to tell him off for the hell of it. L seriously needed to grow up and stop acting so petulant, like a big frickin' baby.

Intent on giving him a piece of his mind, Raito stepped into the room.

He found L on the ugly grey couch situated in front of the television, sitting in more of a slouch than his usual perch and looking down at his phone resting on the cushion beside him, like he was waiting for a call any minute. His attention was on his cell, but for some reason the remote control was held stiffly in a hand and he was rapidly thumbing the button to change the channel, no end in sight.

Finally noticing that someone was standing in the doorway, L titled his head his way half-heartedly…

…and then he dropped the remote control.

It made a loud clatter and he looked down it, successively breaking eye contact with him.

Raito scowled and could not believe that L was going to ignore him when he was standing right in front of him. There was something incredibly aggravating about the detective snubbing him, and Raito did not think it stemmed from just a general dislike of disregard, but an actual event that had happened between them.

Coming out of the doorway, Raito was ready to have it out over whatever was going on.

However, L beat him to it with his own version.

"Why are you in your underwear?"

The brunette stopped and his big toe accidentally dug into carpet below, his reaction not necessarily one of irritation; he was just…thrown-off by the question.

"Why are you flipping through the channels so much?" he retorted. That had seemed like a good comeback in his head. Didn't come out so great out loud though.

L looked nonplussed. "I like the sound," he said and left it at that.

They stared at each other and no one attempted to go any farther than that.

Either this was the most awkward conversation in the history of awkward conversations, or L was trying to be funny, and by the look on his face, hilarious was not one of the adjectives he would have used to describe him at the moment.

Raito sighed and felt all the fight go out of him. "Can I sit down?"

L glanced over at his side, candy wrappers and the like littering the cushion, and the foot closest to the mess – slowly – slid over and swept it all to the floor. His foot retreated and then he looked back at Raito, as if saying "Look, clean."

Raito tried not to grimace as he brushed away the remaining rubbish and took a seat. He turned to look at L, maybe to establish that eye-contact thing (who knows) but when he did, he was surprised at how awful the detective looked. The shadows under his eyes were thicker, like it was smeared on; his skin looked clammy; and even his already untidy hair seemed to be doing its best at looking dreadful, the ends drooping, lifeless.

He looked like a sullen puppy.

A sullen, scary-looking puppy…

"I'm glad you came to see me," L started up, suddenly, and Raito had not expected those words, or anything for that matter, to come out of his mouth. "I've been meaning to…apologize for what I said the last time we spoke."

Well, this was new. "You're apologizing?" Raito asked and couldn't believe it even though he heard it with his own ears. If there was one thing about L that he could never forget, it was how absolutely stubborn and immature the detective could get. Raito assumed to get his way, to receive the apology he deserved, he would have needed to yell a little, generally be more aggressive.

But to have it served to him on a platter was kind of nice too.

"Do not sound so surprised," L said and killed the 'kind of nice' feeling he was having.

"Do you blame me?" he responded. "You walked out on me without even explaining yourself properly, and then you avoid me for as long as you can until I'm the one to approach. No one said this was going to be easy, but you're making it harder than it already is."

L tapped his fingers on his knee, his sulky expression abating. "You're right…I should have explained myself better. I know how much you despise being kept in the dark."

'And you should also know how much I despise it when people point out what I despise…' Raito crinkled his forehead at the thought and kept quiet.

"We are having communication issues because things are so very complicated between us…" he took a deep breath, "…as they were between your past self and me. He never liked me, and judging by your behavior, you do not either."

Raito lowered his eyes to his lap.

"Though your behavior is more than understandable…and since we'll be working closely together in the future, your cooperation is much more important than your feelings towards me," he said, eyes glazed over in thought. "I would not want you to be nice to me if it was insincere. Do you understand?"

Raito nodded, feeling oddly disquieted by L's hushed tone.

"I know I do not have to worry about that in concern to you, but there is one problem that I do have with you that I did not have with…him." L paused for a moment and gazed at him closely.

"You do not seem to realize how I feel about you."

Raito's brows creased together before his eyes widened, appearing to finally comprehend what L was hinting at. He looked startled and so unbearably uncomfortable that it was a wonder that the detective had the nerve to finish.

"Maybe I should not bring it up, but we will just continue to misunderstand each other in the future. At least now, you will be more thoughtful about your actions when you are around m–"

"Wait a minute," Raito interrupted, vigor returning, "You have...'feelings' for me? Where the hell did this come from."

"Well…" L began, pensively "…I believe it originated from sex, and then as we spent more time together, it kind of snowballed –"

"I didn't mean tell me!" Raito snapped. "I just don't get you. How can you say you…uh" failing to retrieve the word, he simply left it out for sheer embarrassment, "how can you say those things when you tortured me."

L gave him a sobering look. "Feelings or not, I believe you are evil-incarnate, and I will do all that I can to make you pay. I hope you can be understanding about this."

This insensitive little -- ! "Are you insane?"

"I think you should be the last person to question another's mental health."

Raito hung his head and tried to wrap his brain about this situation.

He quickly came to the conclusion that this was possibly the_ worst_ confession he had ever received in his life, and believe him, he'd gone through quite a lot during high school to know what one sounded like. Though no one had ever…insulted him partway through it. What exactly was wrong with L? If he was suggesting he…he liked him, then the _last _thing he should do was call him "evil-incarnate" to his face!

Raito was seriously questioning the intentions of the person next to him.

"I feel somewhat better now that I have gotten that off my chest," L admitted, interrupting his thoughts, the brooding expression he had previously worn all but gone. "Thank you, Raito-kun. It is a nice feeling to have someone to talk to this about, even if that person is the very one that causes you the trouble in the first place."

Before he could retort to the concealed insult, L's cell phone went off and he picked it up from the cushion. "I have to get this, but please do not go anywhere." The detective did not even wait for his response and began to converse with who Raito supposed was Watari on the other line.

Raito wished he could ignore them, but it was easier said than done, especially with L being so…loud.

"No."

Why would you say that?"

If you think that then you are not mistaken."

But I am in a better mood because of another reason."

You do not need to remind me – I know."

L stared up at the ceiling.

"That was different, I asked for your advice, do you see me asking now."

Raito thought that L seriously needed to work on his people skills.

"Yes..."

Yes, she has bought the story and is handling the situation quite well. Misa-san is a trooper."

Raito rolled his eyes and could not help but recall what L had fed to the blond in order to explain why he had taken her to England. It went along the lines of 'things are looking not so good in Japan right now, and even though Kira is no longer a threat, I cannot have the two who were once suspected going back to Japan. It is not safe for you, so we will be going to England now. Pack your things.'

Raito could also not help but recall the migraine that had followed that instant.

"She does not seem to have any visible problems with any of the items you purchased for her. I even asked." There was a longer pause and then, "He's getting used to things. Actually, he's sitting right next to me, and there is a good amount of space between us."

The brunette felt his eyebrow twitch.

"I did not think to ask."

That seems like something the two of you should work out on your own."

L looked down at his feet.

"What does it matter?"

He began to wiggle his toes, like he needed amusement and this would provide that.

"Well…he is gaining back the weight…" the detective had turned his head and was now staring at him brazenly, as if to confirm this, his line of sight moving down his upper leg and stopping at the knees.

"Everything looks fine to me."

What kind of inappropriate crap was L saying about him over the phone?

"So they are a little more close-fitting – that is how he usually wears his clothes."

L rubbed his head gruffly.

"Then I'll just tell Roger to get him new ones, but he is going to try and make me do it."

You know my feelings towards shopping are similar to my feelings towards injustice."

A longer pause. "Then I will get Misa-san to do it. That sounds fair."

After listening to Watari for another minute or two, L finished with an abrupt 'good night then' and switched off his phone.

He turned to him, hands depositing his cell back into his pocket. "Sorry about that, but other than the short phone call I made to him upon our arrival, I had not updated him on the superficial things."

Raito had been wondering about this ever since they had reached England but "Where is he?"

"He has family that lives in London," L answered, "two daughters actually. They are quite grown-up -- one of them is my age and the other is five years older." L was not saying anything about a wife and Raito doubted he was shy about mentioning someone's divorce.

Watari was probably a widower.

"He is also busy with collecting information for prospective cases," L added. "However, it will be some time until I can take a case and even longer until I can use my name to secure one. Everyone in the investigation team believes I'm dead. I doubt they would question anything if they heard "L" was investigating a new case and assume Watari was behind it, but I do not want to take that chance and so soon. Plus, it would be best to give the public time to realize that Kira is not coming back. That way it will not surprise them if it leaks out that I am working on another case."

"So it's going to be awhile?" Raito asked, not really knowing how to handle that news. He was now somewhat ambivalent over the whole 'working for L' thing. He did not like the idea of someone bossing him around, but at the same time, he was starting to feel awfully curious over what the detective had lined up. Now that he'd had a little time to calm down, he supposed that emotion had something to do with L being a little more _reasonable_ today. Well, compared to his other days.

"It will be awhile," L confirmed, "But I suggest you enjoy your vacation. It is the only one I'm ever going to give you."

Raito looked him straight in the eye.

Even if he tried to be nice to the jerk, that undertaking never lasted long. "Thanks for putting it that way," he told him, sardonically, "but I doubt I'll need a vacation, as your job should be easy enough."

"You are making jokes at my expense," L stood up from the couch, "But I will look the other this time. I would rather we try to put our differences aside and get along from now on…" he paused thoughtfully before saying, "…like business partners."

Standing as well, Raito gave him a strange look.

"Do you want to shake on it?" L asked and held his hand out.

Raito looked down at the pale fingers…

…and slipped his own into the loose grasp. It immediately tightened around his hand and he squeezed back competitively. "You really bug me," and confuse me, Raito thought, wondering how exactly to react to L saying he had feelings for him, "But I think I can put up with you to a point."

"Then we are getting somewhere."

**

* * *

**"That guy bugs me…" 

"What guy? Peter. Yeah, he bugs me too."

Obviously paying more attention to his handheld than to any of his concerns, Matt's actions quickly prompted the blond to pick up a book from his desk. Mello then went onto chuck that very book at the other boy. "No," he finally grumbled out as he watched the other get pegged, "I'm talking about Kiyoshi."

Rubbing his temple, where "Classic Literature" had left its mark, the redhead picked up his portable and resumed his game, like he hadn't just been hit in the face with a flying book. He supposed he was only grateful that it hadn't been hardback. "Oh, him? What about Kiyoshi?"

Mello's forehead crinkled under the sweep of thick bangs. "You mean you don't think something weird's going on?"

The redhead shrugged, focus still split between his friend and his game. "Yeah…but weird things are always happening here. I kind of got used to it."

"You mean you just ignore it," Mello corrected as he pushed away from his study desk and climbed onto his bed, and sprawled all over the sheets. He laid still for a couple of seconds before he rolled over to his other side, arm reaching into his bedside drawer and coming away with a semi-melted bar of chocolate. He sat up, scooting to the edge of the mattress that Matt was currently using as a backrest as he sat on the floor, and began chewing pensively on the wrapper before tearing it away with small, but sharp incisors. "So you don't have an opinion about this guy."

Matt shifted on the carpet, head falling back and resting against the knee dangling off the bed that belonged to Mello. He raised his hands so he was now holding his game directly over his face. "I dig him; he seems nice enough."

Mello, who had been gnawing rather thoughtfully on an edge of his candy bar, abruptly bit into it and snapped off a large chunk. Matt felt crumbs on his forehead and brushed them away. He glanced up at the blond, who had been staring at the wall with a dazed look, black eyes more on the side of glassy green as the sun poured in through the open window across from them. He didn't look angry or even annoyed. It seemed like he only wanted to brood.

"So…is there a reason why you're asking me this?"

Mello looked down at him and gravity caused thick shoulder-length blond hair to slope forward and hang around his face. "It's only been two weeks since those two showed up and everyone's already forgotten that they're outsiders – and suspicious outsiders at that."

"I think you're being a little paranoid," Matt glanced up at him, "and you're shedding all over me," he commented and began picking blond hairs off his shirt.

"You have something I can tie it back with?" Mello asked, momentarily putting his worries aside.

"I think so…" Matt searched his wrist and came away with a rubber band. "You need a bobby-pin or something…I think I have a few in my pocket…"

"Just two," then the blond added, "Save the rest for their _intentioned_ use."

"The only reason I walk around with bobby-pins is because my best friend has really girly hair. There's no other reason for me to carry them around other than that."

Mello did not look the least bit bothered by the redhead calling him out on the 'girly hair' thing. "If Roger actually catches you breaking into someone's room then you're not going to be able to use that excuse anymore."

"It's not an excuse. Do you want me to carry around a brush to prove it?" Matt asked as he watched the blond messily collect his hair in a ponytail and stick the pins wherever. "A hair-dryer…maybe a bottle of gel…?"

"I'll seriously piss myself laughing if I see you carrying around that stuff," the blond said and got up to go close his window. "And you got me off topic."

"Oh yeah, so what's up with the guy L hired again?"

"You don't think it's weird," Mello repeated, again blown away by Matt's skill of total indifference. "Why would L need to hire someone when he has --"

"When he has you guys," Matt finished and the blond did not look too happy about how he'd worded that.

"No," Mello clutched the material of his pants, "he's got Near…"

"Didn't L say that's it's not over until the fat lady sings?"

"That's not the point - the point is L needs to choose one of us, but for some reason he goes to some…some Ken-wannabe. I just want to know why."

"He also said he wasn't ready to make a choice."

"I know. He says that, and I believe him, but…this situation still bugs me."

"Are you worried that this guy might actually be --"

"It can't be," Mello said quickly, firmly. "If that guy was his real successor, then L would have told us. He would never give us false hope. He's not like that."

"Then what's the problem?"

"The problem is what I keep seeing." Albeit he hadn't seen L and Kiyoshi in the same room since the day he had walked in on them talking -- more like that show-off blabbing away -- about a problem that Mello very distinctly remembered on one of the exams. But even before that, L had been hanging around with that guy and giving him more attention than was normal for him to allot to one person. It had been…annoying, so Mello was really glad that L had gone back to normal.

Though normal was stretching it a bit, since for the past two weeks L had been acting a little _funn__y_.

Worrying his bottom lip, Mello wondered if he was making a mountain out a molehill again. L had given him advice about that, but it was harder to follow it than give it lip service.

"Hey, I want to go to class today," he said, sounding aggravated and not caring. He didn't feel like dealing with his thoughts right now and there was no way he could study like this.

**………………… **

"Hi Mello, hey Matt," a blond with pigtails and large blue eyes greeted as they entered the classroom. She was messing around with a sliding puzzle, but when not greeted in return by the grumpy blond walking past her, she turned to the redhead. "What's up with him?"

Matt shrugged. "Hey Linda, do you know where Roger is?"

"I think he left us on our own to –"

"Geez Mello," a boy protested, outraged, "I was sitting in that chair. You didn't have to shove me out of it."

"Tough luck," the blond who making all the commotion answered back, "I always sit in this spot, so unless you want me to hang you from the second floor by your shirt-tail, then you'll find another seat – and quick."

The boy shuffled in his spot, but then reluctantly gave up and moved onto another table.

"Why are you so angry?" Linda said to Mello, as she sat down in one of chairs opposite of him.

"And why are you always so nosy?" Mello countered.

Matt sat down beside Mello and switched on his handheld. It would be best to let the blond yell at someone who had the nerve to actually talk back.

"You don't have to put it that way. I was only trying to be nice," the girl pointed out. "Maybe you should talk about it. It's not good to bottle things up."

"It's also not healthy to be so nosy. You might find yourself swinging from a tree."

"I don't think you mean that," she dismissed, either bravely or foolhardily, as there was a fine line between the two at the moment. "By the way," she started up casually, like Mello hadn't threatened her, "do you think you could spare an hour? I want to practice more with portraits, but the last time I asked you, you left before I could finish."

Mello shook his head at her. "I need to study after this."

"That's okay," she reasoned. "I could observe you while you're doing it. Oh, but you can't look all stressed-out and frustrated. You have to look calm or else it'll ruin the mood that I'm going for. That's why I need you to tell me your problems now, so it won't come out on the canvas later."

Mello 'hmphed' at her, not really caring that she had ulterior motives. "You want to know what my problem is," he began, suddenly angry, "then I'll tell you exactly what it is." He slammed his hand down on the table and startled some of the children across from them. "It's that _guy_that walks around here like he has a stick up his ass."

It seemed like Mello thought that description suited Kiyoshi better than his name.

"You mean Kiyoshi?"

"I can't believe you could actually figured it out from that," Matt mumbled.

Linda looked like she was thinking over what Mello had said previously. "I think it's because he has great posture. I wonder if he would mind posing for me too. You think I should ask him. He's really handsome and elegant-looking, but you can tell from his face that he hasn't matured all the way, like it would if he was older." The girl took out her sketchbook and began flipping through the pages.

"Unlike Mello" she compared, "who has a doll-face but a questionable personality," Mello scowled, "that guy seems nice…but just a little haughty. I definitely want to draw that." Linda stopped on a blank sheet and looked up just in time to see who was coming through the door. "Speaking of which…"

Kiyoshi had walked into the classroom. He took a seat by the table nearest to the entrance, composed and maybe a little more blasé looking than usual. It seemed that Roger had gotten him to come sit in and watch them today. They had noticed that Kiyoshi was the polite-type that couldn't say "no" to a request from an adult.

It could be that he was a pushover, but when he was alone, when Roger or Miss Bethany were nowhere in sight, the agreeable face that he showed towards them was quick to disappear and the question of pushover was no longer valid when approaching him in the first place was so difficult.

The three of them watched him take a book from under his arm. He began to read, and not before too long, some of the smaller, less aware kids had wondered over to him. Even with that cold and equally unsociable attitude he took to them with, the majority had warmed up to him pretty fast. It wasn't like he was mean, but it wasn't like he was nice either. Mello hated that kind of fence behavior: people like that couldn't be trusted.

"I think he'll notice if you keep glaring at him like that."

Mello did not respond, but loudly pushed back his chair. "This is stupid. I can't get anything done here. I'm going back to my room." The blond walked away before Linda could comment and Matt could accompany.

Marching past the table that Kiyoshi was sitting in, Mello was not able to hold back the scowl he had for its resident.

However, instead of showing his usual unresponsiveness as he had been for the past two weeks, Kiyoshi actually…narrowed his eyes at him.

Mello stopped in his tracks

Then he turned in the direction of the table, legs now moving forward of their own accord.

Mello had always known that he had a difficult time controlling his temper. It wasn't like he went on mad rampages every day; sometimes his temper was manageable and other times it made want to start a fight.

Today was definitely going to be one of those days.

"Do you have something in your eye, because you keep squinting at me?" Mello asked, bluntly.

The expression on Kiyoshi's face was blank, but Mello could detect the faintest trace of disgust in the way he was looking at him; almost like he couldn't believe someone had the gall to speak to him in such a way. On closer inspection, he also looked kind of…tired, the small dark circles under his eyes making his pupils look lighter and glassy.

"Can I help you with something?"

Mello wondered if this guy thought he was a moron. "Do I look like I want your help? I came over here to ask you what the hell's wrong with your face."

That disgusted look was becoming more pronounced, but Kiyoshi hid it well behind a veil of put-on patience.

"Hey Mello, cut it out," another resident of the table hissed at him and Mello turned his fury on them.

"You cut it out, this guy is glaring at me and I want to know the reason behind it."

Suddenly Kiyoshi stood from his chair, causing the bickering to come to a halt.

He set his book down gently on the table, and with those long legs, he took a step towards Mello.

This guy was so much bigger than him that Mello could recognize he would be at a total disadvantage if he rushed the jerk. But odds being against him could never deter the blond. All Mello wanted was a couple of hits, being scrappy was more important than physical strength sometimes.

The brunette effortlessly stepped past him and walked out of the classroom. "Let's talk somewhere else, please," he said calmly before starting down the corridor.

'What? Too good to let anyone see you lose your temper,' Mello thought and followed the snob out to the front entrance, the brunette descending a few of the steps before graciously taking a seat. He dusted the top of his knees casually and seemed to get distracted with his hand, thumb flicking against the corner of a nail and getting out whatever supposed imperfection had lodged in the crevice.

Mello stood there, wondering what the hell this guy was doing and intending to ask that very question when --

"Be quiet," Kiyoshi interrupted and threw a wilting stare his way. "I don't appreciate some petulant brat that I don't even know jumping in my face when I've done nothing wrong. You say you don't like how I'm looking at you, well the sentiment is mutual. I don't like you either, but at least pay attention to the fact that I'm older than you and show respect where it's due."

Mello stood there, face beet red in anger, like he was about to blow up and take everything with him. "You got some nerve," he seethed, "acting like you're above me or something. I heard you're only nineteen. We're only four years apart and I definitely don't want to get lectured by some guy who thinks he's superior to me without the scores to prove it." It had never been his intention to get into this with this prissy-faced bastard, but it gave him the chance to assess where he actually stood.

"Don't kid yourself," the brunette chuckled, obviously finding what he said amusing – really amusing by the smug look on his face. He stood up from his seat, the height he had over Mello serving as another blow to his pride. "I wasn't going to bring this up because I was trying to be fair, but there's no way _anyone_ at this institution is smarter than me. Not you, not Near, and certainly not L," he enunciated, absolutely confident about that.

Mello was seeing nothing but red and white spots as he stood there, a bull ready to charge into this idiot and give his ass a good tumble down the orphanage steps. This guy had insulted not only him, but Near and L. Now the blond normally did not like his white-haired rival, but nobody was going to indirectly insult him by calling Near a dumbass. Even worse was his outright declaration that he was…smarter than L! Who did this guy think he was?!

"Why you -- !" Mello stepped in too quickly and found a hand plastered onto his face, impeding any further movement forward. The blond batted the hand away angrily, but as he rushed forward, he suddenly came up short again. This time by an unseen force.

"It's good to see that everyone is so energetic this early in the morning." L tightened his hold on the scruff of Mello's shirt and pulled him backwards. "But I don't like it when I have to cut my breakfast short because everyone is a little too energetic." The detective turned to look at the brunette. "What exactly are you doing, Kiyoshi-kun?"

The brunette straightened and the displeased look on his face smoothed out, like wrinkles from immaculately folded laundry. "Nothing," he said, but as he brushed past L, he hissed "However, please feel free to have a word with your _little _prodigy over there." He promptly walked back into the building, leaving L and him on the doorstep.

'Have a word, hmm?' Well, Mello had _three_ words for him.

"What a bitc--"

"Ah, ah," L said, cutting him off before he could finish. "No need to call back the beast, for I will be the one in trouble if that happens." The detective looked down at him, instruction in his voice. "If you must start an argument with someone, do so when they are well-rested and not moody. Otherwise, that is the result."

Mello looked up the detective, confused.

How could L take that crap from somebody who was working for him? Shouldn't he like tell him to 'eat floor' or something if he stepped out of line and started a snit with him. Why was he even defending him? "Sorry, but I can't stand that guy. You can tell Roger what I did, but I'm not going to apologize."

L tilted his head. "You're straightforwardness is commendable and I feel no need to tattle on you to Roger. In fact," L said, somewhat puffed out, "I feel proud that you are no longer going after prey, but a predator like yourself." Patting him on the head, the detective then added, "In the long run, it will make you a much better person. Though I'll discourage the physical fighting, as Kiyoshi-kun hits very hard, and I would not wish that upon anyone."

Mello really had no idea what was going on here, but if L was encouraging him to give this guy a hard time, then he would be more than happy to. Even without permission, he'd have gone for it.

Feeling suddenly emboldened by L's support, Mello asked, "Is there any truth to what he was saying earlier?"

"Pardon?" L put a hand up to his ear.

"I mean…" of course it wasn't true. There was no way in hell that he was smarter than L or even close to. But there was something else that was bothering Mello, even if Kiyoshi had never said anything about it. "…is he in the running to be your successor too?"

L gave the teen an unreadable look before he smiled and patted his on the head again.

"Sure," he answered, like he was going along with what he said.

_Sure?_ "So he's…"

L nodded and did not give Mello the time to react, going back the way he came, the smile on his face still indecipherable. He passed Near in the doorway, the boy standing motionless except for the single finger curling in and out of his hair; he was gazing at the blond who had his back to him.

When Mello turned around and found who was in the entrance, his face immediately lost its meditative appearance, anger rushing to the forefront. "What the hell are you looking at?"

Near did not walk off like he usually did, but continued to stand there, staring at him with that hollow gaze.

"I hope you heard what L just said," the blond grumbled, taking a few challenging steps forward.

"I heard all of it," he dryly informed, and from the way he was looking at the steps where Kiyoshi had been sitting, he meant ALL of it. Knowing his luck, Near was probably the one that had told on him to L – that wuss.

"You knew, didn't you?" Mello asked, alluding to what the detective had revealed. It had become common knowledge that Near was sometimes seen in presence of the brunette, so if anyone should know what was going on, it should have been him.

Finger stopping its motions, Near let his hand fall to his side. "This is the first I've ever heard of this."

Scowling at an answer that he did not expect and feeling stupid for even asking in the first place, Mello brushed past the shorter boy in a hurry of limbs.

"I could ask _him_?" Near offered, unexpectedly. He had resumed playing with his hair.

Mello stopped and glared at the white-haired boy. "What's wrong with you? You're acting like you don't trust L," the blond accused and stomped down the hallway without another word.


	24. Ever Growing Contention

"So I'm one of your successors now? I believe I was told something different when you explained what my position with you would entail."

L was stooped down on the floor and digging through his bags like a dog searching for his favorite bone. Most of his clothes (uniforms practically) were on the floor and he was stepping all over them.

Raito 'tsked' at the fact that the detective had yet to unpack and was still living out of his bag.

Talk about lazy.

"Just go along with it." L turned towards his bed and began to search under it, not caring at all that Raito was currently sitting on the edge when he'd suddenly flipped the sheet up and hit him in the leg; the teen scooting to the other end, a tad moodily.

"It is another one of those reasons why I brought you here," L said, voice muffled as he continued to search. "I have noticed that everyone's scores at the institution have leveled off, and while that is all fine and good, I do not want to see them growing complacent because an order has been established." Unexpectedly, Raito heard something clatter against the ground before he saw a tennis racket slide across the floor and knock against the closet.

It came to a stop.

"That is why," L resumed, as if he had never stopped, "if I were to introduce someone higher on the food-chain, so to speak, everyone would improve because they would be forced to in order to keep their spots." The detective crawled out from under the bed, another tennis racket held in his hand.

"Especially the three at the front of the pack." L handed the racket over to him without missing a beat.

"It will particularly place a lot of pressure on Near, who has been 'coasting' for this past year in certain subjects. He is very naturally talented, much more so than Mello. However, Mello has proven that he can overcome obstacles repeatedly through challenging himself and hard work. Reading the reports for this past year, I am more impressed by Mello's progress than I am by Near's static hold over 'first place.'"

L got up from his stoop and walked over to his closet, picking up the other racket.

"Fortunately for Near, I have been good enough to bring him someone that is similar to him in innate ability, but has the experience to back it up. I see he is playing very nice with you if you have already heard about what I said to Mello yesterday. I expect you corroborated my lie with one of your own."

Raito nodded. He'd been confused over why L was contradicting himself. The detective had made it very clear that he did not want Raito associated with his title, so for him to then turn around and say, 'Oh yes, Kiyoshi-kun also has a chance to become my successor' was not something he had expected to hear.

The possibility that L was lying through his teeth had immediately crossed his mind, so to be safe, he had lied as well. It wasn't like it would hurt anyone if he supported the statement. Moreover, it would give him the chance to confront L on something that he thought the detective should know.

"So you're using me as motivation?"

L nodded, shamelessly. "You have a way of bringing out the best in people," he paused, then added, "You have a way of bringing out the worse in them too, so this should be interesting."

"Interesting?" Raito questioned, "It sounds more like inconvenient to me. I mean, we all know who'll win if you put me up against anyone of these children." Continuing to test the waters he had been dunked in, he said "Maybe you should just cut out the middleman and take me as your successor."

L, who had been absently turning the racket in his hand and appearing to closely examine it, stopped what he was doing and stared directly at Raito. "I've discussed this with you before and I thought I had made myself clear."

Raito mirrored the stern expression. "Oh, I understand your reasoning completely. Obviously you don't want 'Kira' to have anything to do with the 'L' name," Raito touched a hand to his chest, "but that doesn't apply to me anymore, does it? I'm a different person. You even said so."

L took several steps towards Raito and leaned his face unnervingly close. "You say_ different_, but you are reacting the same as your past self would. Do not make me repeat myself when I have already told you 'no.'"

Never one to back down, Raito leaned in closer. "And I'm only pointing out, why should you have to settle for second and third best when _first _is sitting right in front of you?" He smiled, all self-satisfied like, and L backed away, the detective straightening and trying not to look putout.

"You are charming," he stated, like he was having a hard time admitting it, "But you are also arrogant and stubborn and spoiled. I do not want to get into this with you this morning, so pick up the tennis racket and let us go for some exercise."

Raito huffed out an annoyed breath and turned his head away. "Go run around the house if you need to burn off some energy."

L paid him no mind and opened the door. "I will go ahead of you, so please go change."

Raito turned the other way, dallied for a bit, and then stood up and followed behind him, the racket in his hand. "I don't need to," he replied.

The detective locked his door. "Are you sure? I will wait. It is not often that I get to see Raito-kun running around in tennis shorts, like a well-bred rich boy."

Raito snorted at that. L was trying to insult him, but it was the tone he took that was of more importance to him than his words.

Ever since yesterday, he had noticed that L had grown bolder with him. Of course, it was an outcome of their conversation, a small wordless truce that they should at least try to act a little more tolerable towards the other. It might help with easing some of the tension between them, but it also had a good chance of working against their 'progress' as they could just as easily offend each other with too much casualness; L being guiltier of that than he ever could.

It angered him that L was taking more liberties of speech with him than he should have. But he knew the detective was not the type to step on eggshells when he was around people. He just crashed about, upsetting everyone in his path, and not caring in the least what they thought of him.

Raito could have warned him about speaking so lightly to him, but he knew it would be one of those 'in the ear and out the other' type of things, and while he was offended, he was not mortally so. He could live with it. It wasn't like he was totally oblivious to the double standard of that thought.

He was also being pretty forward with L. It was too tiring to act anything but. The detective had seen him at his best, but more importantly, he had seen him at his utter worst, and to try and hide that with polite words and reclusive behavior was not going to fix anything. It was just going to make him look like a coward and he was not about to be labeled that when he'd gone through so much over the past two years.

However, as currently disposed as he was to let things go, there was something else that was bothering him, and aware of it or not as the detective might be, he was acting on behavior that could be misconstrued as flirting. Moreover, with this being the day right after their talk, what was Raito supposed to think…?

L was just too messed up for words to properly describe. He talked to him how he wanted and treated him with the same defiance. It was unbelievably selfish to tell him how he felt and then expect him to deal with it while he had so many other things to think about, like his emotions were so important that they needed precedence over everything else.

Raito did not attempt to sympathize, because in essence, this had nothing to do with him. It was L's problem and he would deal with it by himself. Raito was more concerned with this successor-business.

It might be bold of him to say to L that he was more capable of taking over for him, but it seemed like such a natural occurrence of events. He was more suitable than his other candidates, and L had once been so set on giving it to him, so why not swallow his pride and admit that it would be better off in his hands.

L was already being so trusting – of course, it was solely due to his knowledge that Raito would _not _test his precarious situation by doing something as foolish as going against him now -- but at least there was no question of where his loyalties lied. It was, again, totally out of the question for him. He had absolutely nothing to gain from betraying L now and the detective had equally nothing to gain by killing him.

But Raito had never been the type to sit still and obey when he could be getting something out of a situation. He felt a need for L's title, and despite the extravagance and uselessness of that want when he was going to be working for him anyway, it did not stop the brunette from thinking it belonged to him.

And he would not be denied.

**………………………………**

There was a courtyard between the orphanage and the church, a place where some of the children would wonder off to when the front yard was taken over by the boys playing soccer.

A few of the kids, who were occupying themselves with a lax game of four-corners, could not help but look up at the noisy pair walking across the courtyard, L and Kiyoshi talking rather animatedly among themselves.

"I said no and that is my final answer. Why must you be so difficult?"

"You're one to talk."

"Do not start with me when I am trying to relax. I did not think this would be such a problem for you, but I now see the error of my ways."

"Oh don't give me that," the brunette replied, "you just think I'll go along with everything you say. That's unfair to me."

"Can I see that?" L asked Ophelia, the little girl just having completed drawing squares for a game of hopscotch. She looked down at the pink chalk smudged all over her palm and then handed the requested item over to L.

"Unfair is how you keep insisting on having your way," the detective continued and broke the chalk in half, returning the other piece to the girl. Walking to the other side of the courtyard, L stooped down and began to draw lines on the ground.

"You cannot have you cake and eat it," he lectured.

"But you can have the whole damn bakery," the brunette said, following after him. "All I'm asking for is a little benefit of the doubt here. What was the purpose of your big speech yesterday if you're not going to listen to me?"

"The purpose of it was to get you talk to me again, not to harass me with your opinions. Now move your foot, I need to draw the baseline there."

Everyone on the courtyard had gone silent as they watched this odd scene.

Honestly for anyone of them, it was weird seeing L actually arguing with someone; usually he just stood there with a dazed look on his face and his finger in his mouth when Roger started up with him. But even the older man backed off pretty easily after he realized L wasn't paying attention to what he was saying.

L wasn't exactly the type to listen to the other side of an argument, or even much care. Growing up here, the older ones had witnessed it, so they knew if they had any problems with the institution, the only way to get anything done was to deal with it yourself, because going to L and asking him for help was like going up to a wall and asking it to dance the tango.

It just wasn't going to happen.

"What's up with L?"

"Duh-know. Maybe he woke up on the wrong side of the bed today." Though they had seen him on his crabby days and the worst thing he would do was grumble if anyone started bugging him. What he was doing with Kiyoshi right now could very well be the first time they had seen L overtly angry.

"I heard that Mello got in an argument with Kiyoshi on the steps yesterday. It could have something to do with that."

"Oh, it was more than that," Linda chipped in, hearing gossip and wanting to join along as she abandoned her jump rope. "I was there. Mello rushed him -- you know how hotheaded he can be. Anyway," she dismissed, wanting to quickly get to her point, "I don't think they're argument has anything to do with this. Mello told me that L didn't give him any trouble because of it…" She bent towards the group of boys and girls and whispered, conspiringly, "I even heard that L was encouraging him."

"Encouraging him? But I thought that guy worked for him?"

"He does," she assured, "but Mello told me that that's not the only thing he's here for. It seems that Kiyoshi is in the running for L's title too. Maybe I shouldn't say anything, but I don't see the harm in letting everyone know when it concerns something so important, you know?"

"He's in the _what_?"

Everyone turned to look at the pair on the other end of the court -- L having finished drawing boundaries, and both taking sides behind the line serving as the divider, as they started a game of tennis.

Remarkably, they were still arguing.

"I knew something was wrong when he was the one giving us pointers in class."

"Why didn't L tell us about this when he was introducing Kiyoshi?"

"He didn't even announce it -- he told Mello, and if Linda wasn't there to pester him, who knows when we'd have found out about it?"

"This pisses me off."

"Not to sound elitist, but we've all practically grown up with each other. The last person to come here that was in our age group was six years ago. Letting an outsider in at this time and telling him he can get in on something that we've been struggling over for years seems unfair."

"It's survival of the fittest. If this guy has the qualifications then it's not our business to say, but if he can't handle the work then he doesn't deserve to be here. It has nothing to do with 'fairness.'"

"You can say that, but you're practically dead last. What about the rest of us who give a damn!"

"Cut it out guys," Linda interrupted, "you're acting like a bunch of brats."

"Hey Linda, did Mello say anything else?"

"Uh…not that I remember."

"Does Near know about this?"

"Oh definitely," the girl laughed, "I heard him cursing at Near from the second floor. He was using words that I didn't even know. Something about '_die Rotznase_'"

"Whatever, I'm going to talk to Mello. I don't care if he kills me -- it's better than listening to you indirectly cursing at us."

"Wait up!"

After the curious had left, the ones who were content to leave things alone stayed behind and continued to play. But with all the noise that was happening thirty feet away, it was becoming increasingly hard to focus on anything.

However, it was not the obvious commotion that everyone had been privy to upon the pair's arrival since they had halted the vocal disagreements (and even from the way they had been going at it, their bickering had been mild, not anything to be upset over, only slightly surprised) No, the real ferocity existed in the back and forth swings and frenzied scuttles across the space they were using to play what should have been a harmless game of tennis.

It certainly didn't look harmless to anyone viewing it from the sidelines.

Kiyoshi had practically taken off at a full sprint towards where the now severely bruised tennis ball was about to land. It bounced towards him and he smashed it across the line that separated the two, the detective answering in equal spirits and barely making it. He lobbied it over the brunette's head in desperation, but the teen jumped and with the momentum spiked it so hard it flew past L and into the grass.

"Fifteen love," he called out and pointed towards the ball, the act serving as further insult, like an owner ordering his dog to go fetch.

They went on to play six more games, the much-abused tennis ball arcing back and forth between them, sometimes sharply, sometimes in a tired drop, until one of them wrested the point from the other.

It came down to a score of five-six, with the last point determining who would win. The brunette was leading, and sauntering over to the corner he needed to serve from, he began to bounce the ball on the concrete.

"You are stalling. Are you trying to catch your breath over? I will wait if you feel faint."

Even from this distance, it was easy to make out the glare that the brunette had aimed at L.

Promptly, he tossed the ball high up into the air and stepped into his swing as he struck it from overhand, the power behind it causing the ball to spin slightly.

L hit it back to him, the force behind his own halved by the rotation of the ball that had come at him indirectly. Kiyoshi took advantage of that, and clenching the handle of his racket with both hands, served it back at the detective with double the impact, the outcome causing many of the onlookers to question whether tennis was supposed to be a contact sport, because L had just gotten plowed in the stomach by a rubber ball.

_"Oops,"_ the brunette called nonchalantly and without the least bit of sympathy in his voice. He rested the racket against his shoulder, walked over to the line, leaned over and asked in a sugary sweet voice, "Are you feeling faint? Need to catch your breath there?"

L was currently bent over with his hands on his knees to brace him up. He straightened stiffly after a minute and stalked over to where the ball had fallen. Then he went onto serve the ball at Kiyoshi out of turn.

It hit the teen in the arm with a solid 'twack.'

"What are you doing?!" Kiyoshi yelled, clutching that part of his arm where the ball had connected and crossing the line that separated them.

"You hit me on purpose," L clarified.

"I said 'oops,' didn't I?"

"You said 'oops' and then you smirked at me. I think you are only lucky I did not toss my racket too."

Making a gesture that could only be interpreted as 'forget it' Kiyoshi turned to head back across the dividing line. "Fine, can we continue then?"

"No, you walked over to my side without good reason. You are disqualified – now go get the ball."

Staring at the detective like he was about to hit him, possibly with the racket clenched in his grasp, Kiyoshi, to the disappointment of some, turned sharply on his heel and began to walk towards the house. "You're so damn impossible. This has absolutely nothing to do with tennis and everything to do with getting what you want. Fine. Go pout, see if I care this time."

L followed after him. "It also has something to do with my leg, as it has begun to hurt." He chewed on his thumb and asked, "By any chance, are you heading towards the kitchen? Do want to take a desert break with me?"

"What does 'go pout, see if I care this time' exactly mean to you?" the brunette said, pace quickening.

"I am not mad so I don't need to pout." L lengthened his steps and finally caught up to the other."You're going the wrong way if you plan to stop off by the kitchen."

Everyone watched both men go back the way they came, the two of them not quite arguing, but not exactly getting along either.

**…………………………**

Mello stomped down the hallway leading to the front entrance, blond hair swishing back and forth and determination plastered all over his face.

"You're actually going through with this, huh?" Matt asked behind him, eyes glued on his handheld.

"Of course, I wouldn't be standing here if I wasn't. You know better than to question my resolve." The blond rolled up his sleeves and planted both feet on the ground. He was standing obnoxiously in the middle of the corridor. "You didn't have to follow me if you're not curious."

Matt shook his head. "I'd feel bad if you got your lights knocked out and I wasn't there to -- you know, like help out…I guess," the redhead finished, unconvincingly.

"Matt," the blond snapped, "I don't care if we hang out together, if you ever say lame shit like that to me again, I'll beat you up worse than that time we first met."

"Hey, I'm barely an inch shorter than you now, I think I can take you –" the boy stopped what he was about to say as he noticed L and Kiyoshi coming up the stairs, "don't look now, but here comes Kiyoshi."

"Bastard…" Mello hissed, attention going back to the front. He had put his hands on his hips so he was taking up even more room, like an animal puffing itself out to look dangerous and only partially succeeding…kind of…"Hey you!"

At the sight of the person blocking the hallway, Kiyoshi practically grimaced.

L seemed to have a totally different reaction, as he nudged the person beside him in the ribs, expression amused, "Look, Mello has come."

Wiping at his forehead with the back of his hand in that over-refined way he had, the brunette sighed out exasperatedly, "it's just one annoying thing after another." He gave Mello a pointed look before asking, "What do you want?"

The blond held in anything sharp, uncurling his fingers from around the papers in his hand and waving it at the brunette. "You keep bragging about how smart you are, well let's see you prove it." He pushed the crinkled mess forward, like he wanted him to take it, but Kiyoshi just about turned his nose up at him.

"Time for me to leave," L announced as he did not want to get caught up in the middle of anything, and plus he wanted that cake. "Run while you still can," cursorily advised the fleeing detective, as he passed next to the redhead who was looking on at the confronting pair.

"Look, I don't mind doing whatever_ inane_ test you've come up with," the look on his face said he was humoring him, really, "but at least approach me with something more than 'hey you!'"

"Well, it's going to continue to be 'hey you!' until you take this from me."

Kiyoshi derisively snorted at him, tossed the hair out of his eyes and abruptly snatched the papers from his hand. He briskly walked into an adjacent but full classroom, boys and girls crowding around and seemingly forewarned of these matters.

Mello did not feign to keep his intentions secret. When a few of his inquisitive peers had approached him this morning, asking about what he had planned now that the news had gotten out about Kiyoshi, the blond had been ever frank and told them exactly what he was going to do. He even invited them to come watch.

Taking a seat near the window, Kiyoshi set the papers down on the desk and made himself comfortable. "Get me a pencil, _at least_," he ordered and the blond, biting his lower lip in irritation, tossed the requested item at him.

"You have a time limit of one hour."

"One hour?" the brunette said as he casually flipped through the packet, "give me half-an-hour. I'll be finished by then."

_What a cocky bastard!_

This test was a copy of the last assorted exam they'd been given, and it was already practically impossible to finish the twenty questions in the hour that was allocated to take it. Mello hadn't even made it past number fifteen before he'd had to stop. Even Near hadn't finished, but he still got the highest score -- a seventy, a far cry from his usual perfect 100.

Kiyoshi, tapping the pencil on the desk to get his attention, asked in that infuriating drawl, "Can I start now?"

"Go ahead," the boy said and sat on the opposite table in order to closely monitor him.

A half-an-hour later, after much scribbling and a few indiscreet yawns – yes Kiyoshi actually had the mind to yawn at him, that bastard! – the brunette stood up from his chair, stretched and then told him, "Done." He began to walk away, but Mello hopped off the table to stop him.

"Where do you think you're going? I haven't even looked at it yet." He'd long ago memorized the answer sheet to this exam in order to review by himself, so grading wouldn't be hard.

"They're all correct," Kiyoshi assured, "but if you need to see for yourself, then by all means go ahead, but don't expect me to stand around here waiting for results that I already know the answer to," and without further ado, the pompous prick left the classroom, as if the earth would explode if he spent another second near them.

Mello, scoffing at the retreating figure, snatched the test up and began to skim through it, the sneer on his face gradually fading away into surprise at the contents of the paper.

"So what'd he get?" Matt asked.

Everyone had also begun to crowd around them, curious over the results.

They'd noticed that Mello's brows had furrowed together in distress, those dark eyes going wild and his hands shaking in anger as he clutched the test. Without warning, the blond suddenly tossed the exam away and stormed off in the flurry of white papers, murmuring all the while, "_Verflucht __noch__ mal!"_

"What's his problem?" one of the children asked and stooped down to collect the scattered papers. After looking it over too, the boy went pale and thrust it at the person closest to him, who incidentally was Matt.

"He got a perfect score…"

"What?"

"Let me see it!"

Matt handed it over to the crowd without a word and stepped to the side. Mello had looked so upset at this turn of events that the redhead knew it was useless to follow after him; no words of encouragement would make an insult of this caliber go away.

Fuck, what the hell did L bring home with him…?

"He's right…"

"But Near didn't even get a perfect score on this! How could --"

"He's smarter than Near and Mello."

"So that stuff about him being his successor is true?"

"No one has a chance against scores like this!"

"No kidding, it looks like we have a freak of nature on our hands."

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm going to study."

"Me too!"

"Study? Unless you plan to go up a hundred IQ points in one night, I don't see the use."

"I don't care about this stupid test, L hasn't announced his successor yet, and as far as I see it, this is only going to benefit us. Anyone who thinks Near or Mello is going to take this news too well and not totally flip out in the next few days is overestimating the human will."

"You guys are vultures."

"Yeah well, the last time I checked, Wammy House isn't filled with a bunch of singing orphans."

**……………………………**

Those kids were so out of their league, Raito thought, as he ascended the steps to the second floor. It was one thing to treat him like one of them behavior-wise (as insulting as that was), but it was another thing entirely to expect them to be on the same academic level.

He was older and had much more experience. Plus he was ten times more mature than all of them combined. They were just kids after all. Especially that little blond brat…

Raito hoped he had learned his lesson. To expect him to be tripped up by one of _their _exams was ridiculous. Of course it was challenging, but nothing that_ he_ couldn't handle. Who did they think they were dealing with – some amateur.

It just went to show who was more prepared. It certainly baffled Raito how L could say he wasn't going to give him his title when he was obviously the one most suited for it. Well, he also had to take into consideration that the detective wasn't all that grown-up yet, despite being older, he could be just as big a brat as the other children.

_Arrogant, stubborn and spoiled,_ huh? He was so not one to talk.

Raito opened his door and immediately felt like closing it when he saw Misa jump out from hiding, the blond girl giggling and making more noise than someone so small should be able to produce alone.

"Awww, you look so mad, why are you so grumpy looking?" she asked, grabbing ahold of his hand and pulling him inside without giving him a chance to run away.

There were clothes strewn about everywhere that neither belonged to Misa nor to him, even though his closet and drawers were all wide open. He had also noticed that L was sitting on his bed and eating cake. He was using the other laptop that Raito had been given as of recent; it sounded like he was watching the news.

Wow…these two had sure made themselves comfortable…in_ his_ room.

"Look, I got to buy all this stuff for you with Ryuuzaki's credit card," Misa happily exclaimed, her hands still clamped around Raito's wrist and not letting go for anything. "It was so much fun. I never spent so much money in one go."

Raito again looked down at all the clothes scattered on his bed and folded over the sparse furniture in the room.

Oh Misa…you didn't…

"I don't need all these things," Raito told her and the girl fluttered about without a care in the world, obviously not paying attention to anything he said. God, did anybody in this house listen to him.

"But Ryuuzaki said you needed clothes, and winter is coming up."

Coming up? They were still in May.

"Here you go," obliviously stepping past him, Misa held what must have been L's credit card out to the detective.

"You keep it," he told her as he continued to stare at the computer screen like a zombie. He cut the slice of cake in two, forking up the larger piece and shoving it entirely in his mouth. "I don't have any use for it, so it would be better off in your hands," he explained and Raito frowned when he noticed crumbs falling out of his mouth and onto his pillow.

Oh c'mon, he had to sleep there.

"I noticed that Misa-san did not buy anything for herself. That is not exactly what I meant by 'purchase things you need.'"

"Ha ha," she laughed, sort of embarrassed, "I got caught up in shopping for Raito. I've never shopped for a boy before," she explained, as if she was speaking to one of her little girlfriends instead of a grown man. "But there were some really nice things. They don't have a mall in town, but they have all these cute little shops."

L nodded, pretending to listen, even though he was staring at the computer screen, which was more than Raito could say, as he had stopped listening since the first mention of shopping.

"Ryuuzaki told me your sizes," Misa suddenly blurted out, "But I don't think he's right, so you need to try on everything." She grabbed a pair of jeans from the bed and then held it out to him, "Oh, I want to see you in this. Try it on."

Raito stared at the girl like she had lost her mind. "Misa, I kind of want to take a shower," He was a little sweaty after that game of tennis, "so could you and Ryuuzaki…" Raito looked at the door as if to give them a hint.

Misa was staring back him blankly, totally uncomprehending.

L was still looking at the computer screen and not paying him any attention.

Raito felt his eye twitch and swallowed the urge to start shouting at them to get out.

_"Oh,"_ the girl said and Raito was glad she finally understood what he meant, "I'll wait here for you to finish. But hurry up, 'kay?" she smiled mindlessly and patted him on the shoulder.

Raito blinked at her and had to realize for a second time that she understood nothing.

L was sipping tea and using one of the books on his nightstand as a coaster.

Temper sorely being tested, Raito pursed his mouth and brushed past Misa, walking towards the bathroom and slamming the door shut behind him.

**…………………………**

Stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist, Raito listened for any noises outside that would signal his guests had not left him alone. He heaved a sigh when he heard Misa speaking and L answering her in a lower but easily recognizable tone.

Those two…

It wouldn't really bother him if he walked out there in nothing but a towel. Even though he knew Misa had feelings for him, he could more than readily ignore her comments about being 'in love' since the way she went about was utterly ridiculous. It was hard to take her seriously despite the lengths her other self had gone to get him to fall in love with her. Ultimately, he thought, Misa's existence was not threatening to him.

It was the other one he was worried about.

L might not be as loud and as obvious with his actions, but it took a considerable amount of snubbing power to ignore anything he did. He was subtly very pushy, the way he looked at Raito and the way he chose his words.

_"Maybe I should not bring it up, but we will just continue to misunderstand each other in the future. At least now, you will be more thoughtful about your actions when you are around m–"_

Hmph. Thoughtful. Thoughtful?!

It took a lot of moxy to confess to him like that with the belief that a punch in the face wouldn't be waiting for him at the end of it. L had looked awfully calm during the whole process and the way he was treating him now made Raito wonder if that bastard had just done it to make himself feel better; to get rid of the remaining tensions between them so he could relax.

Telling him whatever he felt like, invading his personal space…

What a selfish jerk…

Raito opened the door to the bathroom and walked out dripping wet. He stalked towards his closet and made Misa sputter at him and turn around to stare at the wall in embarrassment. Whatever feminine modesty she had – which was not much – returning.

He told her he needed to change again and the response this time was her opening the door and running out with what sounded like a squeak. On her good days, Misa could shout to everyone about how she wanted them to go to bed together, but judging by her behavior now, she was probably a virgin. Raito thought it was kind of cute that she could still flee from a situation like this. Well, he did like girls that were more timid and reserved than bossy and possessive like Misa. Maybe if she acted like a proper girl he might give her a chance, but she was just too flashy and out-going for his taste.

Raito turned to look at his other problem, who was now gazing back at him with an unreadable stare, the newscast he had been watching going on in the background.

He raised an eyebrow and the detective responded with a, "I've seen you naked many times before…it's nothing new to me," although it was more hesitantly said than casually.

Either he was trying to be cute or he was actually serious about not being bothered. Looking at him closer, the overly grave features trained into compliance were giving him away.

Even if it was a joke, what an inappropriate way to go about it.

Raito did not let his annoyance show through as he walked up to the detective. If L could have fun at his expense, then he didn't see why he couldn't mess with him either.

"I guess you're right," the brunette agreed and fake smiled at him, the detective appearing to straighten and become more alert. "We're both guys after all. There's nothing wrong with me changing in front of you." Raito stopped in front of L and gazed down at him, eyes honey-brown in the light and moisture sliding down his stomach and collecting where his towel began.

He leaned over, drops of water falling on the bed and L's pants as he placed one hand to the right of him, next to the detective's thigh, and reached with his other to the left. L went absolutely still.

"You're sitting on my jeans," Raito told him tersely and roughly yanked it from under his leg, the detective making a noise of discontent as he was shifted.

Raito stood back up naturally, striding over to the other side of the room and pulled on his jeans without warning. From the corner of his eye, he watched as L got to his feet and stiffly walked towards the door, his face a mixture of wide-eyed discomfit and offense.

He slammed the door behind him.

Listening to the footsteps as they grew distant and finally silent, Raito turned back around and went to go lock his door. He could not help but recall the exact look on L's face as he had left, the image now stuck in his mind and causing something in his chest to tremble and shake more pronouncedly as the seconds went by.

Raito found himself slumping against his door helplessly, the shuddering making his abdomen hurt as he tried to keep it in, but after quickly realizing it was very much impossible, he pressed a hand to his mouth and suddenly, unexpectedly, burst into laughter.

_God, h__ow amusing__ could one __person__ be__…_

* * *

**A/N:** All these competitive people in one house -- doesn't seem like a great vacation spot if you ask me. Though I wonder what they would have on their brochure if it was – something along the lines of 'come see society's future con artists and social misfits as they're reared from infancy to puberty, constantly fed a diet of fear and pressure to be number one, and then released upon an unsuspecting world that provides them with a wide variety of weapons and sugar.' On the other hand, I guess L and Raito would feel most at home in this kind of environment. Can't teach an old dog new tricks, I suppose… 

**1. die ****Rotznase** -- (German) little snot, prick.

**2. Verflucht ****noch**** mal!** -- (German) "For chrissake!"/"Goddamn it!"


	25. On the Surface

_Raito __felt L's__ back stiffen as he c__ontinued to __drive into him, __e__ach sopping push and pul__l__, aided by the oil he'd been prepped with, __further lubricating __him __until moving became almost effortless, friction giving way to pressure as L pressed down on him mercilessly__ in search of his orgasm__ and he in turn constricted around his member like a __clamp._

_L __was __having a hard time holding himself up as __he fucked him with barely restrained frustration, forehead resting __on his shoulder and a profile of his face revealing the __defeat that __had cast a __shadow over his features._

_As if contagious, __a sp__ring of that frustration __welled up__ inside of him__ and __Raito __could not hold back the cry in his throat or the anger that wanted to surge __forward a__s well. He dug his fingers into __the__ thin waist__ above him__, hoping that something would give, and receiving his wish as __his nails bit into the incredibly soft __and pale __skin at his side__s, blood rushing to the surface in a half-moon shape __and tric__kling in small drops __to the sheets._

_L's__ pace seemed to shudder then falter, __Raito taking__ satisfaction __in __that __small torture as he watched __L__ resume with a pained grunt that had more to do with hindering him in his motions than any physical injury __he could cause to his being._

_Raito slid his hands gently over the places he had dug into, a__s if he was trying to soothe him, and L relaxed in his arms again, practically clinging to him like a dream that he __never __want__ed__ to __wake __from._

_However,__ it did__ not take long for that gentl__e touch to __turn unkind again. _

_L wrinkled his brow and made a feeble noise in the back of his throat, and Raito did it __once more__ simply for ch__ance to hear that sound again. _

_He was feeding__ off__ the sounds__, he discovered __after waiting with bated breath for the other vocal utterances that L could never hold __back. It made his heart race; u__nequivocally, it __excited him to the point where it did not matter what he had to do, he __wanted to__ make __L __sob __louder._

_After that realization, it did not take much for L to completely __spend himself, Raito working him so hard an__d so fast that he__ lost control of his lower body and hoarsely cried out__, all the bones in his spine locking up all at once as he shuddered heavily and went slack in his arms._

**…………………………**

Yawning loudly and not caring to hide it, Raito pulled a book from the shelf in front of him and leisurely began making his way back through the aisles.

As annoying as it was that he was _still _having trouble sleeping, hecould not come up with any solution to fight his overactive imagination.

Those erotic dreams of his were starting to get out of control, as there was something a bit off about them lately. Actually, there had always been something wrong with them since he was dreaming about L, but now instead of seeing the logic in his nighttime affliction, he was thoroughly distressed over it. The clarity of each image disturbed him, the sounds and the phantom sensation of holding someone closer than he ever had made him feel confined.

It showed him in a different light, one that viewed him as twisted and sadistic, that would hurt someone else for his own pleasure…

Raito wasn't that kind of person. Deep down he knew he wasn't.

But despite his knowledge of himself, he still felt frustrated by the dreams, worse he was mortified.

And he suspected his embarrassment had nothing to do with the act of sex and everything to do with the people involved, since L was the person who had…in a sense… defeated him, so this man was going to be the source of all his insecurity and guilt from now on.

Raito felt his stomach churn at that thought and kept on walking past the wooden and dusty shelves.

But when he caught sight of something white and small in his periphery, his feet stopped of their own accord, and he turned in time to see Near stretching his hand up to reach a book on the second to last shelf.

The brunette walked over without another thought and slipped the desired object off the shelf. He then handed it over to him and smiled, because Mello might be a pain in his ass, but he had actually taken a liking to this one.

It could be because Near was so quiet -- after questioning him extensively for the first few meetings, he had immediately returned to his taciturn self. It seemed Near was not one to squander his words, only speaking when he felt it necessary. For anyone else it would have been viewed as an insult to withdraw back into himself after being so meddlesome, but for Near, it only seemed natural.

He still spoke to him off and on; if they happened to be in the same place he would walk over, say a few casual words, and then plant himself down next to him and play with his toys for hours at a time.

Last time Raito had been surprised by the sheer amount of toys this boy possessed, but now he was simply surprised by the amount of time he devoted to playing with each one. Near really should have been putting that time towards preparation for exams, but leisure seemed more important to him than hitting the books.

Which brought Raito to his next question --

When exactly did Near study?

"Thanks," Near said dryly and took the book with the hand not holding onto a multi-colored and clunky robot that looked like the result of a Gundam throwing up.

"You're welcome," Raito replied off-handedly.

Once he had shifted in his spot to look at the group of tables located in the corner by the stairs, he began to amble towards them, the small shadow off to his side telling him that Near was trailing behind.

Raito felt a corner of his mouth twitch up.

Near was so aloof, but there were times when he surprisingly (absurdly) reminded him of…

…a little puppy.

Taking a seat, he watched as the boy sat on the floor in front of his chair and rested his book down before taking the robot in both small hands and walking it across the floor.

Observing this child while he played, it was hard to believe that he was currently number one in the entire institution.

Mello, however much he was annoyed by him, actually appeared determined and, truthfully, more conscious of what was going on around him than this lethargic-looking thirteen year old.

Raito knew the old adage about not to judge a book by its cover – he'd had to reassess some of his values when he'd met the detective – but again, it was really difficult to take Near seriously when he walked around, day in and day out, with such a dopey look on his face, like he was sleep walking and they were all apart of his dream.

That obtuse and lazy expression of his, Raito had not been able to place it upon meeting, but it really did remind him of...L.

Raito blinked out of his reverie.

L had told him to keep a close eye on Near, but maybe he was being too exacting with details. He supposed he was too intrigued with the amount of weird that _was _this little boy. He did have a track record with that sort of thing -- my god look at L, couldn't get weirder than that.

"You scored a hundred," Near suddenly spoke up, the rattling of toy parts stopping.

"I did," Raito answered, matter-of-factly. He'd been wondering when Near would bring it up, but after approaching him with the same dopey expression, it had totally skipped his mind.

"Okay, I was just checking," Near replied casually and had oddly begun to smash his toy into the book that he had stood up seemingly for that purpose.

_Just checking?_

Did he not want to probe him further about something that would very well determine his future?

"You don't want to hear the details?"

"No need," Near told him and smashed the robot against the book again, this time a hinged arm popping out of the plastic socket and falling to the floor.

Baffled by his disinterest, Raito said, provokingly, "I'm going to take your spot, you know."

Near stared at him and dropped his robot to the floor, the toy lying limp and defeated. "No, you won't," he answered impassively but strangely confident.

Intrigued, Raito sat up straighter in his chair. "I won't?" he chuckled, laughter indulging. "What makes you think that?"

"If it were that simple, L would have chosen you to be his successor already. The fact that he has not made the announcement yet, despite your superior scores, says that you are either lacking in something or he has already decided that you are undeserving of it. And since the former would go against my opinion of you, I've come to the conclusion that he isn't going to give it to you because you are not what he is looking for in a successor."

Raito tapped a finger against the table.

He wasn't annoyed.

This conclusion would be evident to anyone in this house if they were able to detach themselves personally from the dilemma that "Kiyoshi" posed instead of letting their emotions get the better of them.

No, he wasn't annoyed at all.

Raito smiled in that patient fashion he had. He even got out of his chair, the brunette crouching down in front of Near so they were at eye level.

"I have nothing against you," he admitted, "in fact, I even like you. I think you're a really cute kid."

Raito leaned forward, smile widening as he whispered, "But child or not, if you get in my way, I'm going to crush you until there is nothing left in that brain of yours but how to play with your silly little toys and potty train. L is going to give me his title and there is nothing anyone in this house can do about that. Do I make myself clear?"

Near's eyes appeared to light up at the proposition. "Provoking me will get you nowhere," he stated, then tilted his head sharply, eyes glued to the floor. "I would also advice you to stop provoking Mello."

_Mello?_

"He's the one who's aggravating me," Raito asserted. "I don't see what's wrong with defending myself, nor do I see what it has to do with you."

It was commendable that Near had noticed he was rousing Mello up on purpose. It was so easy to single out the blond, and with his temperament and inferiority complex, he had simply been dousing the fire ever since he had agreed to L's plans.

But certainly, it wasn't his fault. Mello was falling right for it and letting himself get worked up so badly that he had not even left his room since he had confronted him with that test, as Raito had been told when he'd made a "casual" comment as to the whereabouts of a certain blond.

Near stood up and turned to leave, but instead of walking away, he stayed in his spot and began to play with his hair. "It's troublesome…" he vaguely stated in reply to Raito's earlier accusation, "…that's all I'll say on the matter."

Raito, watching his retreat, could not help but wonder what that had been about, and more importantly, why the white-haired boy had looked as if he was _almost_ defending Mello.

Maybe those two were friends…

Though the files were specific about Mello's dislike towards Near and Raito had witnessed it on the few occasions they were in the same room.

But aversions, however intense he thought, did not always run both ways. Near's files had not mentioned anything about sharing the same sentiments – it had not said he liked him either – but Raito could only assume his outlook of the blond was not as negative as the reciprocation.

Well whatever…

Like he had done with Mello, he would deal with Near in due time. It was not something he needed to do, but Raito felt hard-pressed to ignore him when the boy was so certain that he would be no threat to his position.

No matter, no matter, Raito thought, as he opened his book and skimmed the pages with mild interest. By the time he was done with both of L's successors, it would be perfectly clear who the BEST was in this damn house.

**…………………………**

Getting off the phone with Watari, L slid his phone into the usual place and was already out his door by the time it settled into his back pocket, the quiet of the morning ebbing away as floorboards creaked and rowdy speech alerted him to the presence of others.

L turned around in time to see a group of children approaching.

"Roger baked cookies," a voice said among the crowd, a few of them greeting him with the same "hellos" and casual waves.

"Then I am thankful for the vigilance," he answered back and patted the boy on the head roughly, the child making a face and smoothing his hair back down.

L watched the group carry on down the hallway and he could not help but think how quickly children grew; it had only been a few years since his last visit and now the majority was chest level.

It would not be long until the older children were ready to leave the orphanage and explore what was beyond these gates.

It was a somewhat sad tale.

He would probably never see any of them again after he left this time -- these children knew how to blend into obscurity, and being already faceless within the society that was going to admit them, they would all disappear without a trace.

But that was the life story of everyone that came through these halls.

Anonymity was their greatest weapon, and it was also somewhat their curse, since many of the children that left here ended up in "high-risk" jobs, and he did not mean they worked in law enforcement – though for many of them there was a likely chance of involvement with the police.

L did not turn a blind eye to the side-effects that came along with giving children their age the resources to realize their full potential, despite the danger it posed to their moral development. But he also did not do anything about it. He acknowledged that Wammy House produced geniuses as well as social cripples that viewed themselves as separate entities from everyone outside the institution; a good number of them had already developed an anti-social disorder.

Nevertheless, sacrifices needed to be made for them to grow intelligent and strong-minded. It was just how things went and how they would continue to be. L did not see any reason to change a system that for the most part worked, especially when he respected what Wammy and Roger had created so long ago.

Coming up to Raito's door, L prepared to knock, but two girls who were walking in from the opposite direction called out to him before he could.

"He's not in there, check the library," informed one.

L made an "ah" noise and headed in the stairwell's direction.

It could be those two girls had been to the library and had come across Raito, but it was more likely that they were keeping tabs on him, as everyone else was probably doing now that they had heard the news.

Well, it could only be seen as a good thing: the more eyes to watch Raito, the better, he supposed…

**……………………………**

L looked down at the brunette, seated in a chair with his head resting on the table and his arms tucked under, so they were cradling him and part of his face was hidden.

He had been surprised to hear that Raito was visiting the library at seven in the morning, but looking at him now, breathing in deeply and body too slack to even sit properly, not to mention with a book serving as his pillow, it was probably safe to say that he'd come here to find relief from a restlessness that L had noticed frequently bothering him.

Moving over to his other side, the detective crouched down so he could get a look at his face, and noted how exhausted he appeared.

And here he had been planning to wake Raito up so he could keep him company…

L sighed restlessly and twiddled his thumbs.

After a short amount of time had passed that felt longer than it actually was, he stood up and pulled out the nearest chair, climbing onto it. L looked around the library, trying to will the time away, but unfortunately, it did not take him long to find himself again at the end of his patience.

He was not used to having to wait when he wanted something, but then again, when Raito was involved, it seemed inevitable that he would be stripped of his usual priority status.

Though that did not mean he was complacent to sit here and watch the paint dry.

"Raito," he whispered, testing. If he woke him up, he'd say it was an accident and then apologize.

He called to him a little louder this time, and waited a minute for it to sink in, before he began to prod his big toe against the upper leg of the table, the movement shaking it just a bit.

"Raito," he called normally as he looked around without turning his head, "wake up. I want to have breakfast."

The brunette continued to sleep.

"You can go back to bed after I eat."

Still nothing…

Far from deterred, L looked around again, this time a mischievous smile turning up the corners of his mouth.

"If you do not wake up, I might do something to you that would make better use of the table you're lying on."

It was not wise to mess with Raito this way, as he had gotten a taste of his own medicine before, and it had upset him to the point where he needed a full day to sulk.

Even if Raito was taking him in stride, he should not press him so.

L knew that. But he just couldn't help it. Provoking Raito, he had found, had become one of those habits of his that he could not, nor would not, enjoy breaking, like eating sweets or sitting with his legs up.

At this point, he knew it was impossible to fight his desire for Raito, but suppressing it was not _too_ difficult.

He simply had to bear with it, like any other responsibility he had taken on in his life.

And the key to maintaining his emotions so they would not overwhelm him was to compromise with himself.

Things like talking to Raito for more than he should, "blurting out" comments that made the brunette get that overly offended look on his face, and persuading (ordering) him to join him in various activities – those were endeavors that he needed in order to keep himself from acting on the stupider impulses, i.e. anything that had to do with touching and sex.

Of course the urge was still there, strong as ever and harassing him when he least expected it to. He assumed it would be a long time until he grew indifferent to it, but until then, he would simply have to console himself with the fact that Raito, despite being brilliant, handsome, and good in bed (really good in bed)…

… was also a mass-murdering sociopath with a god complex.

He merely had to keep that in mind when his body was acting funny.

L prodded his big toe against the table some more.

"You are lucky that I can somewhat control myself…" L paused and stared down at his feet "If I was as smart as I believe I am, I would have erased your memories and instead of giving you that journal, I would have told you we were going out…"

His cheeks puffed out mildly, annoyed that Raito had not woken up yet.

He was hungry and his mood had quickly gone south after having depressingly irrational thoughts.

L looked at Raito up and down, and suddenly kicked his chair.

The sleeping teen began to breathe louder…

Getting up impatiently, L stood closely off to Raito's side, a part of that oblivious face now viewable to him.

L might have been half-joking at the time he had said it on the plane those months ago, but Raito really did look like an angel when he was fast asleep… the kind that broke your heart and then stabbed you in the back (repeatedly) when you weren't looking…

L frowned at his conclusion as he continued to gaze at Raito and hoped that he would wake up.

He could always…shake him… That would definitely get him up. But the idea itself went against his usual policy of not touching.

There was always the option of kicking his chair some more; he knew if he kicked hard enough Raito would probably wake up, but it would probably be attributed to him falling _out _of his seat, and L did not want to have to explain to a cranky, floor-bound Raito, why he had felt the need to kick him out of his chair.

Staring down at the hand that was fast becoming his only choice, L made up his mind and suddenly wiped it on his shirt -- for some reason it felt clammy -- and began to prod Raito in the neck.

The brunette made an annoyed sound and shifted.

L scratched his head contemplatively.

Guess he had no choice but to go for it.

Gently resting his hand down on Raito's back, L was about to shake him, when he felt the body under his fingers stiffen and startle awake, his hand being knocked off in the process and the teen shoving him away so hard that he hit the bookshelf behind him.

L stared back at him wide-eyed, stunned at the response he had been met with.

While at the same time, Raito, breathing loudly, sat back in his chair, his eyes wild and mind obviously disoriented.

After a minute, his breathing began to slow down, and warily, L leaned away from the bookshelf he'd been knocked into and took a step towards the brunette. Toffee-colored eyes jumped up to meet his and halted him in his tracks.

"Don't –" Raito said, voice groggy and rasping, "don't ever touch my back like that again…"

L nodded and looked away. "I apologize… I wasn't thinking with my head…" He really should know better than to lay a hand on the part of Raito that was scarred and sensitive.

Raito, rubbing at his eyes and waking up in earnest, nodded in response, as if suddenly realizing how harsh his words sounded and wanting to take it back. "Don't worry about it…" he said, eyes closed and a hand on his temple, "…just don't startle me like that again." He raised his head and looked directly at L, sleep-fogged gaze now lucid. "Did you want something?"

L scratched behind his head in an attempt to delay his answer. "I did…but it doesn't seem that important anymore."

Raito gave him a weird look before standing up, a hand running through chestnut bangs and pushing the hair away from his forehead in a tired sweep. "I'm up now," he yawned, "so go ahead and tell me."

Raito had long stopped speaking to him politely, his words now more casual and many times more insulting than when they had first met. But as mean as he could get some days, L still saw traces of that polite and accommodating personality within the brunette.

It wasn't all for show. After all, Raito had grown up with parents that expected him to act in a way that would not shame them. Being outwardly well-behaved was just a natural response to people (note outwardly, as being sneaky about bad behavior was also his forte).

L sighed and thought that when it all came down to it, Raito was always going to be the "one" that got away. It was useless to fight his attraction for him, not only that, it was safer to leave things be.

He'd been so lovesick in France that it made him ache merely recalling that time, worst it embarrassed him that he could let someone gain that kind of power over him so easily and in so short a time.

How foolish he had been to ever entertain thoughts that Raito was a good person.

But never again! He'd learned from his past mistakes in dealing with him, and knew the only way to handle the brunette was to keep his head clear of any and all distractions; to hold no sympathy and no illusions about what Raito Yagami was and what he was capable of doing.

He was, first and foremost, a criminal.

One that was here simply because L had wished it.

The leash he had him on may have a long reach now, but once L went back to work, he would take a firm hold of it and rein Raito back in. He did not think it was a good idea to restrict him now, after so short a period since captivity, and even if he did not want to admit it, his leftover affection for the brunette was still swaying him to not take that route yet.

Not yet. Not right now.

He would worry about punishing Raito when that time came – when he could honestly look him in the eyes and not feel pained over it, when his confidence was restored and he knew with that blind belief in himself that he would be able to see it through.

For now, he simply wanted to concentrate on healing his physical injuries and maybe, if it were not too ambitious of him, to establish some sort of understanding between them before he had to severe it completely and turn Raito into a tool of his making.

Putting it off was all that he was doing now, and as selfish as that was, he wanted that last reminder of why he had been so taken with Raito in the first place…

…that last bit of happiness before he could truthfully move on.

**………………………………**

"Are you no longer getting along? And here I thought you two would be friends forever" L said, wiping his hands off the shortcake he'd had for breakfast and half-taunting Raito, when the brunette described the tone Near had been taking with him earlier that morning.

Raito rolled his eyes. "Don't play dense; you're the one that's making me out to be the villain in this house. If you hadn't lied to Mello, then I wouldn't have to deal with this."

"My lie has nothing to do with it. It's the fact that you cannot help but show-off when someone challenges you. If you were more humble, then you would not have so many problems."

Raito glared at L as they walked down the hallway to his room. "I'm not showing-off," he said indignantly and walked up to his door to turn the knob. "I can't help it if I'm better than them." There was one of those superior chuckles in his voice as he opened his door and the vision of his room suddenly lay before him…

The smile on Raito's face fell away completely and his eyes widened as he took in the state of his bedroom: the sheets on his bed ripped up and pillows gutted open, his stuff thrown all over the floor and his furniture knocked over.

As quickly as shock had dawned on him, anger was faster on the uptake: Raito's eyes going narrow and dark, his lips pulling back in an ugly snarl.

"That little --!"

Raito turned around and L caught him by the arm, not the smartest thing to do with what had happened earlier, but it was enough to stop the brunette.

"Where are you going?"

Raito tried to push him away with his elbow. "Where do you think I'm going? I'm going to make Mello clean this up."

L gave him a funny look. "Do you have any proof that it was him?

Raito pointed at his room furiously, "Who else could it be?"

"Do not get defensive; I am merely pointing out that without evidence, it seems futile to go up to his room and accuse him. Roger can only punish someone when they are caught doing the 'crime' not when someone gives an assumption. Sorry, but that it not how things work here. We like to operate on the law of empiricism at this institution."

Raito stared at the detective in disbelief.

_No wonder these __kids were such insatiable brats -- _

_They got rewarded for getting away with bad behavior._

"L…you know this kid came into my room and you're not going to take my side on this."

"When have I ever taken your side, Raito-kun?" L asked, an implicit smile on his face. "You are cute, but I am not dumb."

As if now remembering that an appendage was not currently in his possession, Raito abruptly yanked his arm away from L.

Then he gave him "the look" and slammed the door right in his face.

"That is mature," L grumbled and scratched his head, wondering if he should think twice the next time he felt like kidding around with the brunette.

* * *

Despite the perfectly delicious looking strawberry chiffon cake set in front of him, L would not stop gnawing on his thumbnail. 

It was now past six (almost eleven hours since Ratio had slammed his door in his face) and despite that, he had yet to go see Raito and straighten things out as he had wanted to do thirty minutes after their "fight."

He recognized they bickered over small things (they were still uncomfortable with each other so that was bound to set off sparks) but even stubborn Raito had his reasonable side.

Obviously, L was not in the wrong this time.

Obviously…

L tapped his fork against his plate pensively.

Maybe he should just go apologize.

He tapped his fork against his plate again, and absently looked down at it, an idea starting to form in his head.

Raito should like cake (what human being didn't). He could give him his slice of strawberry chiffon as a peace offering.

L looked down at the red and white pastry and rethought that idea.

He'd give him half.

"Hey," a familiar voice casually called, suspending his thoughts for the moment.

The detective looked up in time to see Mello plopping down on the chair across from him, Matt not long in following.

Currently, L was seated at the large table in the dinning room. Roger had always been the type that liked to keep his traditions, and so even though many of children did not eat here on a regular basis, the older man still had his dinners here nonetheless. Remembering this place from his childhood, L would sometimes join him even though eating in the kitchen was more convenient.

"Hello," L greeted back, watching as Mello pulled out a candy bar from his pocket and tore the foil off slowly, as if doing it any other way would spoil the chocolate. He bit into it daintily, savoring it unlike usual, and L could not help but notice that the teen was in a good mood.

Well, that figures. Wrecking the bedroom of the person who was trying to show you up was probably good therapy for the blond. If only he had seen the look on Raito's face when the brunette had opened his door. It certainly had been priceless, L thought, as Raito had such interesting expressions for every occasion.

It might have been childish what Mello had done, but who was he to dishearten the boy when he was only doing what was in his nature. If Mello wanted to destroy Raito's room, then let him destroy what he wanted. It could be cleaned up and the parties involved would get over it. And again, who was he to punish Mello when he had gotten away with much worse when he was his age.

L was about to say something, but he saw Near coming into the room next, the boy looking around and taking the seat closest to the entrance, which happened to be right next to Mello.

"I was saving that seat. Don't sit there," Mello told him moodily, offended that his rival would have the nerve to park his butt there. However, before the blond could jump up from his chair and switch seat with the nearest willing participant, Roger walked by and rested down today's dinner and a large side of vegetables on Mello's place-mat.

"Eat it all," the man said and walked off to go prepare plates for the other stubborn children who also did not like vegetables.

Usually it was eat whatever you liked at the institution, but Roger still had to _occasionally_ get them to consume actual food and preferably something green while they were at it. Growing children that they all were, it was important for their development.

"This is… nasty," Mello griped, forgetting about his unwanted neighbor, and turning to Matt, who was eating his food with no problem. "Let me see your plate for a second."

"Huh?" the redhead said as he watched Mello scrape the greener half of his dinner into his.

"Eat it for me," he said as an explanation.

"I don't think so."

"Please," the blond said, tone changing a bit, not drastically, but enough to get Matt to turn his fork around half-heartedly in the mush before nodding his head.

It seemed Mello was learning the finer points of getting others to do things for him without violence coming into play. It was a good skill to have. L had never been a very charismatic person in the first place and he had learned how to do without it when dealing with people, but at least when one of his successors was grown-up, they would have the looks to lead people around. It was superficial, but this was business, and being good-looking was a tool that could be used to your advantage.

It was little details like this that he had to keep in mind in his search for his successor, and when he had to pick between two individuals that had their different strengths and weaknesses, it was going to be tough for him.

L licked his fork contemplatively, the scrape of chair legs beside him causing him to turn to his right.

"Misa is so tired!" He watched the girl throw herself down in the seat next to him and stare back. "Ew, stick your tongue back in your mouth, Ryuuzaki," she told him and L promptly snapped his jaw around the prongs of his fork.

What exactly was going on, he had no idea, especially when Raito was now standing next to his chair.

"How about moving over one so I can sit there?" the brunette asked and placed a hand on his shoulder, his tone friendly and alarmingly warm, however the gleam in his eye off-putting as he stared straight ahead at Mello.

The detective gave up his seat without a word and climbed onto the chair beside him. Raito pushed his plate over to him and smiled with one of those bogus, but undeniably charming expressions that could fool anyone into thinking he had never uttered a mean word in his life.

"It's nice to see that you're joining us for dinner," Roger said as he noticed them amongst the other children. "I'll go set two more plates."

"It's alright Roger-san, I can see that your hands are full," said Raito, already two steps ahead and putting down plates for him and Misa. "Would you like some help?" he then added politely.

Off on the other side of the table, a certain blond snorted rather loudly.

Without moving his head in any obvious way, Raito's eyes refocused on Mello, the gracious expression on his face unwavering. There was something very scary about how absolutely contained and still his smile was, like the calm before the storm struck.

Under that composed façade, however, the brunette was probably burning like a thousand suns. He was spiteful, that much L was assured of, so it did not take a stretch of the imagination to conclude that he had planned or was planning something.

"You don't have to," Roger said.

"Oh no problem," Raito answered, almost cheerfully before picking up a bowl of what looked like steamed carrots and dumping most of it in Mello's plate.

Oblivious to what was going on their side of the table, Roger turned his attention from making small talk with Misa over to Raito, asking him what he'd been up to, to which the brunette answered with a smile, "Redecorating my room."

"I helped too!" Misa said, proud of herself.

They continued on in this fashion, Raito gradually drawing away from the conversation.

L watched him pick up his silverware and start to eat, those impeccable table manners of his making it seem like the rest of table was inhabited by savages. It really did not help that the children were playing with their food more than eating it.

Scratching at his head and also absently paying attention to what he was doing, L accidentally hit Raito in the back of the head with his elbow in passing, causing the teen to drop his fork in his potatoes.

L looked down at the mess and then back up at Raito.

Then he nudged his plate over to him.

"Do you want a piece of my cake?"

Raito looked at him as if he was retarded. "No, that's okay." He picked up his napkin and wiped his hands. "I'm over it, so you don't have to act so stupid around me," he added unexpectedly.

In the middle of returning the slice of cake over to his side, L stopped what he was doing and fixed him with a stare. "I did not think you dropping your fork was such a serious offense."

"That's not what I meant," Raito answered, exasperatedly, "I'm talking about earlier. I'm not mad anymore, so you can cut it out."

L glanced down at his cake. "You were upset with me -- I had not noticed," he said, inserting foot in mouth.

Raito rolled his eyes, instantly seeing through him, but speaking with a patient voice nevertheless. "I know better now since I've had time to calm down. Plus it wasn't you who I was angry at," he clarified and punctuated his sentence by looking across the table, Mello now scraping out his carrots in Near's plate since Matt's was already full, while the white-haired boy did nothing but let it happen.

L also observing the scene came to the conclusion that two out of his three potential successors did not possess a backbone. Near was eating the forced-upon carrots indifferently and Matt was still working on the broccoli that Mello had given him in generous helpings.

"At any rate," interrupted Raito, picking up his fork and cleaning it off with his napkin, "I'm over it now. It would be immature to fight back against someone who likes to vandalize property like a little criminal."

Doubtful, L gazed at the person beside him. "Your face tells another story." And indeed, it was hard to believe that Raito was not going to find some way to get even with Mello when he was smiling like that.

"Does it? Then I think you're mistaken if you think that."

Raito could try to act like a grown-up, but however good his performance appeared, he was still as childish as anyone of the inhabitants of this table, quite frankly if more.

"You are not fooling anyone," L told him, strangely feeling more relaxed now than he had in months, "but I admire the effort you put into maintaining your reputation."

* * *

**1. Anti****social**** personality disorder –** or the conman disease as I like to call it. People who have this cannot conform to social norms and will repeatedly break the law because of it. They're deceitful, liars, and thrill-seekers, meaning they don't care about their safety or the safety of others for that matter. And most important, they don't feel remorse for anything they do, and will either act indifferent or rationalize their behavior. 

**2. Empiricism –** the application of observation and experiment, and not theory, in determining something.


	26. Two steps back

Roughly two months had passed by in a blur that made Raito question if he had even been present to correctly ascertain that.

He supposed it was because he was strangely preoccupied with the little things that made up his days -- routines that would have bored him silly and back when he was still in high school, but now were somewhat relaxing: from waking up in the morning, eating breakfast, going out to get some exercise, avoiding L or searching him out for his amusement, and the other small tasks that he would tinker around with or abandon to his whimsy.

It was …different from what he had come to expect out of life.

School had always been there, an easy taskmaster to please, but a tedious one that needed to continually be kept up with. He liked school, not to get him wrong, for the first couple of years he had been so taken with it that he'd been in a frenzy to prove himself.

However, that passion, like the many others before it, had burned itself out by the time he hit high school, when he'd left the tennis team because he found it wasn't fun anymore… when he found out that a lot of things were pointless and did not keep his attention as he would have liked them to.

Upon entering high school he'd been a little depressed, but between homework, Juku, and his school-boy pride, which was no longer functioning on the desire of outside approval, but on his own want of being the best -- an instinctual reaction sprung up from the mentality of always being "number one" and needing to continue – he'd never had the time to reflect on his choices.

That transition had been a confusing time for him, but he'd come out with the conclusion that he liked the way he was living his life so far and that he was better for it.

Though it had not taken away from the boredom that he phased in and out of during that time, he was still focused, albeit leisurely, but being at his level during those years, leisurely was all it took to get perfect scores on his exams and graduate the top of his class.

Raito could feel the difference that was then and now in his blood.

He knew exactly what had changed in him to turn his outlook into what it was today: the reason why food tasted better and he could lose himself in quiet moments in front of the window.

It was because he had faced ultimate despair in the many silent-as-night cell-rooms that L had trapped him in for those painful months. Stared it in the eyes, fought it down tooth and nail, pleaded with it, gave himself over to it… Raito had become disgustingly familiar with that shadow of human nature that crept into the heart when faced with only the options of surrender or death.

He could sense that something had snapped in him during that time, had simply broken off and was now residing somewhere in snow-filled Russia, like a glacier that had cracked partway through the journey, one half moving on while the other sunk to a place that was no longer accessible to him.

A nagging ache had burned itself onto his brain, like those memories that were no longer his were trying to swim back to the surface and announce their presence to him. But Raito knew better than to think there was anything there.

Sometimes he wished he could remember, but then those fragments of memory that were already in his possession proved to be more than he could handle some days.

'Was it a good thing that he had lost his them?' he would ask himself, but he could never come up with a definite answer.

He'd been furious that he'd been made to give up a part of himself upon hearing the news, and a month had hardly been enough time to work out his emotions so that he had come here bitter and resigned.

Raito could clearly recall the anger in his heart at being locked up, the sheer murderous rage that would take a hold of him every time he sensed someone moving around outside his cell, every time he sensed L watching him through the glass, like he was some kind of rare animal on display. And the fact that_ he_ could remember such hate for L, when the deathnote had taken away all emotions tied to his other half, meant that "Kira" had not been the only one with a grudge against the detective.

Though going by the things said in the journal, his other persona had been_ so_ desperate to kill L that it did not take much to figure out who wanted his death more.

It was clear that the detective would have had to take precautions with him.

Obviously the rules of the deathnote that would have allowed Raito to keep his memories, if L had gone that route, were messy ones, but insuring personal safety must have crossed the detective's mind when he decided to erase Kira out of existence.

Natural enemies that they were, Raito doubted his former self would have been content to leave things the way they were, and he doubted L would have wanted to take the chance.

But the detective was misleading himself if he thought Raito would be easier to handle.

After all, L had already taken so much from him. He had separated him from his world: from Japan, from his family, from any future career choice that he would have wanted to pursue. And most abhorrent, he had halved his lifespan.

L had taken the possibilities out of his life and given him only one narrow path to travel.

It was only a natural response that Raito would want to expand that road, give himself a wider berth of functioning that would keep him satisfied until he grew apathetic and wanted more.

He was ambitious, but not impatient, and his stay in Russia had made his enduring personality that much stronger, to where L's words of rebuke and flat-out refusal to let him have his way served only as encouragement.

And what he currently had his eyes on was L's title.

It was a small victory, but one that would pave the way for others if L surrendered it over to him.

And for these past months, he had been using different means to ensure that he got it.

Raito tapped out the last sequence on his laptop and pressed the Enter key with finality.

He was getting better at creating viruses, he thought, as he watched his latest one run rampant on the connection that this side of the house shared.

Closing the laptop and smiling at the sound of doors suddenly opening and slamming, and multiple footsteps hurrying down the hallway, Raito nearly laughed aloud when distinct voices cut through the once quiet corridor.

"Seriously, whoever's doing that needs to cut it out or I'm going to stab them."

"I'm not doing it. I have a paper to turn in tomorrow."

"Does anyone have a book on the Study of quantum physics and the grand unification theory? It would really help me out since my computer's flipping out right now."

"I'm going to tell Mr. Roger about this."

Everyone had a computer in their room – the exception being Near, who god knows what he had in his room except toys -- so routinely dependence on the machine was already fixed in practically all of them.

The children of Wammy House were all little machines in a way. They were given the rudimentary schooling for their age group, and then on top of that, they were expected to complete advanced work that had nothing to do with an age group and everything to do with weeding out the weaker ones from the pack.

Homework was assigned, but the weekly cumulative exams were ultimately what decided who was in what place.

And the grading for those exams was a meticulous process that Roger was forever buried in. Raito had once offered to lend the older man a hand and then had found himself simply continuing to help out after that. He could not say he minded, especially when Roger was more open to suggestions from him after he finished the correcting (a task that Raito was plenty good at) and they sat down to discuss any noticeable progress or lack thereof for the files the older man had to keep.

This usually took place in his office, around a striking ebony chess set, which Roger kept on a small mahogany table between two matching chairs.

He didn't have tea time every five minutes like L, but his schedule for it was on the dot, and every day at three he would pull out a china-set that was as elegant as the chessboard and invite Raito to join him.

And it was here that Raito would sometimes "comment" about what he thought would be the acceptable level of work for everyone. He'd always make it a point to say before he even touched on the subject that he thought everyone was improving, and then he would "innocently" follow that by "Maybe they need to be challenged more?"

Then Raito, "out of the kindness of his heart," would offer to create a new exam for the next test date. Roger had been hesitant about the idea when he had offered, saying it might be too much work for him, and the tests were fine the way they were, but the brunette subtly pushed his point until several digging comments later, Roger gave him access to the test files.

Raito supposed he got a big crack out of making each and every child in this house miserable, because the first time they saw the test he created for them, there was a lot eye bugging and "wtf"- expressions that made Raito promptly walk out of the classroom and laugh himself stupid against the nearest wall.

He might be still having trouble sleeping, but it was a comforting thought to know that now he wasn't going to be the only one. Not with the nightmares those kids were going to have from the results of their exams.

* * *

"I was in the middle of an online deathmatch and then it signs me out because I lost my connection. That's not even funny." Matt looked to the person beside him for some sympathy. 

"Yes, your troubles seem great," L told him. "But I don't see what it has to do with me."

"But I've tried everything and I can't get it back on, so my only conclusion is that someone's messing around with our internet for kicks. And nobody in the orphanage is _that_ evil, so I'm pretty sure my problem lies with _Kiyoko."_

L sighed and lengthened his strides so he could get away from the boy. "Again, I do not see what this has to do with me. Also a word of advice, _Kiyoshi-kun_ is a very short-tempered individual, so please do not call him that to his face. I do not want any of my successors to go missing. Though that would somewhat upset me in your case."

"But what about my problem?" the boy persisted.

"It seems you only become talkative when your games are put in danger. I am happy that you have found something that you can devote yourself to, but I am also equally happy when you keep your problems to yourself." L realized that despite being taller and having longer legs, getting away from children was going to take more than physical attributes.

"I don't have a problem with him – it's just that today he's crossing the line. You should have seen my score."

"Where is Mello?" L asked as the reminder of the blond should get Matt to go away.

"He's studying like he's possessed; and when I went to go see him, he threw my handheld out the window and broke it."

_'__Ah__'_ L thought, seeing his solution in front of him. "I will give you money to buy a new one if you leave me alone."

"That teaches me bad morals," Matt replied, like he somehow was above that kind of thing, even though it was common knowledge around the orphanage that he liked to steal. "Oh I get it." He pulled up his goggles. "You're going to see Minako-san. That's why you're in such a hurry to ditch me."

He gave L a knowing look.

"I saw her today wearing a skirt this shor—"

Before Matt could finish his sentence, L slapped him in the back of the head and looked on indifferently as the boy rubbed the spot.

"Minako-san is free to wear her clothing however she sees fit, and you and every other boy currently in the throes of puberty will look at the parts that are covered."

Walking on, L made a shooing motion and informed him that: "Roger is the one who holds my funds, so please go talk to him about your concerns."

"Okay, but aren't you going the wrong way," Matt noted as he watched L bypass the staircase.

"When I visit Minako-san is no one's business, and that goes doubly for Kiyoshi. Now go away before I tell Mello you have a crush on him."

"S-shut up," Matt suddenly stuttered, losing his usual cool and running down the stairs at full speed, clunky boots making it sound like a procession of ten and not one.

L was not trying to be mean-spirited, but he knew Matt did not really care for anything he had to say.

Unlike Mello, who was quite compliant with his wishes, and Near, who was barely halfway conforming to what needed to be done, Matt had absolutely _no_ interest in becoming his successor.

If anything, he was just hanging out in third place because a certain someone was in second.

He didn't have an ounce of drive beyond having fun, and because of that, he could never catch up to Mello or Near, who now were on a totally different level from him.

Matt lied and stole, and occasionally Roger would catch him in the back of the church smoking, but he was generally a good boy, with no great aspirations for the future and a whole bunch of time to kill on whatever he thought was important for the moment. He might not make the best of choices for his future, but it was a good idea on his part that he had latched onto Mello early in life. That way, the blond's infectious enthusiasm for being the best, or at least some of his motivation, would seep into the redhead and give him some direction in his life.

Or that was the theory anyway…

Passing by Mello's door, L could not help but perk up his ears.

The blond had to be under a lot of stress if he had broken Matt's handheld, knowing how attached the boy was to the device.

Raito was certainly not making it easy for any of the children, especially Mello and Near, who after some weeks of attention from the brunette, were probably feeling the full brunt of his revenge.

It certainly did not help that Raito was on such good terms with Roger, and was getting the man to give him permission to alter the tests to his liking.

However, despite what was going on in the institution, L would not intervene, even though he had been accosted by several children over the week over Kiyoshi's unfairness -- and really, that was the only word that could be used to describe those tests that Raito came up with. Even L was not in a hurry to go near the classroom when he heard it was exam time.

He did (kind of) feel bad for the children, but the important thing to remember here was that, when Raito was busy terrorizing the children, he was simply too busy to terrorize him; and in his book, that was what most mattered.

Of course, they still occasionally bickered. But to anyone who had witnessed Raito at every stage of his investigation, from his kinder self to the utterly warped and manipulative side, they would agree with the observation that he had leveled-out in quite a remarkable way.

Of course he still treated him no better since his arrival at Wammy House – he was just as flippant, insulting, and withdrawn about the way he went about his day. L could get the distinct feeling that he was being snubbed some days, with the next drawing him back in full force.

He liked to think he had no control over his emotions when he was with Raito, a conclusion that made it easier to let himself relax in his presence and say things that should be kept to oneself.

Though in turn, Raito's poise never allowed the brunette himself to be fazed by his words. He only brushed them off; maybe once in a while he would give him a strange look or avoid eye contact, but that was the gist of it, and if L had realized what was happening sooner, he would have been more careful with the way he casually approached certain topics with the brunette.

It wasn't that Raito was brushing them off, or ignoring him – he was actually taking them all in, one syllable at a time and with a slow-seething anger that had built itself up until another comment from him would surely upset his tower.

It had started with a casual but inappropriate comment from L, one that incurred a pause in Raito that was more felt than heard. It seemed to rub him the wrong way, and he responded with his own casual comment, albeit one that was meant to sting a little.

L had not been able to drop it from then on because this certain topic was very dear to him, as it would be, since it called his feelings into question for the brunette.

And it was from here that things turned ugly.

"I do not know if we are misunderstanding each other again or you are trying to be funny, but it is more than just _like_, Raito," the detective informed him.

_"I love you."_

Thick as the silence was that followed such an admission, the response from Raito was surprisingly airy.

He laughed.

"No offense, but I doubt what you're feeling for me is anything that serious. I mean," Raito picked up his magazine and began flipping through it like this topic was not worth his time, "you did a lot of horrible things to me. I don't think anyone that truly loves another person could do that to them. I'm not saying you don't have feelings for me," he said, practicality saturating his words, "but love is different. We slept with each other for about two months -- that's not love, that's sex."

L stared down at the floor. "You do not realize how much you are insulting me right now," he told him, quietly, patiently…

Raito looked back at him indifferently, eyes empty and lucid, clear like the glass of ice water perched on his desk. They lowered after a while, returning to the magazine in his lap, skimming the pages with seldom interest. "Like I said: no offense. It doesn't really bother me that you're attracted to me, but just to let you know, I have a problem with how you choose to label it.

"To me, it seems ignorant to call it love when we both know that's not what it is."

L watched Raito flip through his magazine some more, the lack of empathy on his part astounding, but in hindsight not expected. When he wanted to be, Raito could act very cruel, but what was worse was how much crueler he could get when he was wholly unaware of it.

"Don't worry," he continued, "I'm not judging you or anything. I mean, we were practically joined at the hip for a year. It's easy to believe you've fallen for a person when they've become a fixed aspect of your life for that amount of time.

"Plus, you were always so invested in everything _little_ thing I did, always looking over my shoulder and analyzing my actions, so it shouldn't be surprising that you got a little carried away."

L felt his stomach twist in discomfort at how Raito was calculating out his emotions and turning them into ugly things that perfectly reflected their circumstances.

"We had fun while it lasted, but I don't think that justifies you throwing that word around with me like I'm a naïve idiot." Raito crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair, stretching.

L did not meet his gaze. He felt beyond insulted by every word that made its way past Raito's lips, but besides that slow boiling heat in his chest, he could not find it in himself to properly defend his side.

Raito turned the page in his magazine, and the quiet around them was sliced by the sound. "I just thought you should know where I'm standing on the issue.

"I don't think it's going to be easy working for you, but it does help when everyone is clear on what boundaries need to be enforced. I think it's important that you know where you stand with me and I know where I stand with you, that way, we won't unintentionally make things worse between us. After all," he reasoned, "you did say you wanted us to get along and I see no other way to accomplish that unless we reach an understanding about your 'feelings' for me."

L felt his temper dip and sway, and his mind jolted back to the many times past in which Raito would taunt him through the glass of his cell simply because he knew he could get away with it.

What came upon him at that moment was the rare burst of anger that he had never known until some months prior; it crept over him, replacing his usual stony composure with resilience similar to a single matchstick.

Why? Why only this person -- why was it that only Raito could infuriate him so when he knew better?

L locked his jaw but the words were out before he could stop himself.

"Do not lecture me about something that you've never experienced. I am not in the mood."

On the desk, the ice in the glass chinked, those mini-icebergs losing their footing and reclaiming new ones in the same breath that Raito had raised his head.

_"What?"_ he prompted, the coolness in his voice freezing the air between them.

"I said," L repeated, "do not take that high tone with me when the only person you've ever been in love with is yourself. I know what I feel for you and all your bitter rationalizations are not going to take that away from me. I am not at all interested in hearing your opinions about what you think 'I feel' when it is clear that you do not understand the emotion in the first place."

The room had gone deadly silent after his words.

Raito was now staring at him deeply, his once flimsy and unresponsive attitude pushed away by the quaking in those amber eyes.

Everything in his being seemed to fissure and tremble in that moment as he locked eyes with L. The air was equally taut, and it would have remained that way too, if not for the great heave that rolled through his body, as if a strong current had billowed everything up to let it fall back in its natural place.

Composure, hard fought for, sighed out from between Raito's lips as he gave L a patronizing look.

"You sure are a piece of work, aren't you?" he said. "I don't appreciate you snapping at me because it's convenient when I say something you don't like. You seriously need to grow up, L."

Sensing their argument was taking that turn for the worst, the detective stood up from his seat.

Like he had said before, he was not in the mood to fight with Raito about this. It would be best if he left before the brunette provoked him into saying something that he would not be able to take back with a mere apology.

But even with that knowledge of what was to come, L was _still_ unable to keep his mouth shut when it mattered most.

"See?" Raito practically heckled, "you've finally shut up because you know what I'm saying is the truth."

L's hand stilled at the doorknob.

"Keeping quiet is not always a bad thing," he said as he turned around and abandoned his escape route, "it would certainly benefit you if you tried it once.

"I had hoped we could be civil about this, but you always make everything so difficult."

Raito laughed derisively and put down his magazine. "Oh, so I'm the difficult one?"

"Be quiet Raito, and I'm not requesting it of you," L said. "I treat you as an equal because I care for you, but if you want me to start treating you like a cold-blooded killer then I won't hesitate do that either."

Raito froze, like he couldn't believe that he had crossed that line with him.

"Get out," he hissed.

L did not move. "When you hurt me, I will not hesitate to hurt you back. Do not think –" his words suddenly veered off when he saw Raito pick up the glass on his desk and hurl it right at him.

It shattered against the door in fragments too small to see, and the passing voices outside the room came to an abrupt halt.

The walls in this house had always been paper-thin, so it would have been too much to expect anyone to not hear that.

_"__I said get out."_

L looked down at where the shards had scattered themselves, and as if his legs were on autopilot, he mindlessly walked back into the center of the room.

Obviously it was not a good idea what he was doing right now, especially when the look he had been pinned with by Raito was ready to tear him apart.

He could hear him breathing, the sound distinct in the quietness that had enveloped the room, and the image of Raito in his cell, tied to a chair, but still defiantly glaring at him, sprung up in his memory like a weed.

Livid with anger and something more, Raito shook off his daze and came back to himself. "How dare you…" he quaked, "…you think you can talk to me however you want because I accepted your deal and opted to stay alive."

There was an engulfing quality to the way Raito was gazing at him now, like he was trying to devour his entire existence in small bites and make it into his own. L did not think Raito had ever been conscious of that look, especially when under the influence of strong emotions, so it would not do him any good to fault the brunette for using it against him now, for making him feel less self-assured in his arguments.

"You seem to be under the impression that the only reason I'm alive right now is to make_ you_ happy.

"Is that how you see me, L?"

The detective hesitantly opened his mouth and Raito shook his head, stopping him.

"I might not understand everything there is to know about love, but if you have such a _low _opinion of my character, then it's not hard to see the extent of your so-called feelings." Standing up from his seat, Raito continued to speak with an assurance that made it difficult to go against him. "In fact, I know exactly what you're_ really_ chasing after, even if you won't admit it.

"I know how much you hate losing," Raito told him and L clammed up at the absolutely spiteful expression that was aimed his way. "And from the moment we first met, that's exactly what this has been all about.

"This has nothing to do with _love_ and everything to do with getting what you want. You think it's love because you feel a_ need_ for me. Don't make me laugh. If you loved me…" he reasoned, sauntering up to him like he was discussing nothing but the weather, "…you would have done anything for me." He jabbed his index finger in the middle of L's chest, where his heart was beating madly at their sudden closeness. "But you're too busy setting up everything so you're the only one that benefits."

It was so ugly; the way Raito viewed everything. For someone so idealistic, he had such a cynical way at looking at others and judging them on standards that he deemed just.

"Do you enjoy cheapening my feelings?" L asked, restraining himself.

"You can't cheapen lust," Raito answered frigidly, closing that gap even further. "The thing that blows me away is how you've convinced yourself that you fell in love somewhere along the lines. At the time, you knew nothing about me, you weren't sure of my personality and you were more suspicious than anything. You said it yourself; you can't build love out of that kind of relationship. So what you ended up with was some twisted and half-baked assumption that was more dependent on what we superficially had in common than my actual emotional state at the time."

L breathed in and turned his head away. "You do not know when to stop, do you?"

"I'm making a point," and without so much as blinking, he grabbed the detective by his chin and turned his head to face him, "so you should listen."

L sharply turned his head and Raito caught him, but this time by the throat.

"I'm really sick of your condescending attitude, as if you think you're better than me." The loose hold on his neck tightened a fraction, like Raito wanted to see his reaction, and when L stood there, unresponsive, he sighed and his arm fell away. "If you're love is so pure, then you would think you could be a little more humble towards me."

"And since I dethroned you," L answered back, "you would think you could ditch the 'holier-than-thou' attitude."

Insulted, Raito made to callously shove him away, but before he could, L grabbed him by the arm and pulled him against his chest, fitting his mouth suddenly to his so that when Raito made a surprised sound it was quickly swallowed up.

L took hold of his other shoulder and pulled him closer until that last bit of determined resistance from Raito died and he was met with the smooth surface of an amorous mouth. It closed on him just as he was melding into it, and he could feel his body immediately responding, almost anticipant of what was to come despite his mind warning him against it.

Raito made a soft, appreciative noise in the back of his throat as L changed the angle of his mouth, and L could not help but swiftly come to conclusion that he would have done anything at that moment to hear it again.

He felt himself harden even more, and pressing against the warm leg in front of him, he tried to ease that ache as best he could.

Though the grip around his arm, constantly impressing upon his wrist and hand, was distracting him. Raito's weight was also shifting, like he was trying to find a solid foothold, and L would have ignored it, if not for the way Raito had gone rigid in his arms.

Pulling back, L felt his weight suddenly tipping forward from the strong hold Raito had on him; and despite the results of their usual bouts, he was skillfully flipped onto the bed, one of Raito's hands now pushing down on his nape and the almost presence of his body against his as he hovered behind him.

"That was compliments of the two psychos you locked me in with for such a long time," Raito whispered harshly into his ear.

L tried to get back up, but Raito straddling him from behind impeded any movement by squeezing his legs around his sides, easily forcing him back down as he settled his full weight on his lower back and kept the grip on his nape firm.

"Having to put up with that day in and day out," Raito continued, "don't kid yourself into thinking we're on level playing fields now. I doubt anything you could do to me would hurt as much as getting repeatedly punched in the stomach by a 200-something pound man."

L hated to admit it, but he was right.

Raito had gone into the torture with a normal threshold for pain and had come out with a tolerance that now probably matched his psychological endurance. What L had done when he had locked Raito up was comparable to taking an already dangerous knife and then sharpening it.

"I really don't like it when someone thinks they have control over me. I especially don't like how everything was on your terms when we were in France." Raito rose up, and kneeling over him, he deftly slipped a hand into his jeans. L went still as he felt fingers trailing and then closing around his erection.

"I've been feeling strangely frustrated for these past months, and since it's not something I'm used to feeling, I don't really know how to handle it." Raito began to lap at his ear teasingly, and L both hated and found it absolutely perfect the way he had gone right for his weak spot.

"I don't want you to get the wrong idea about what this is since I don't love you, but if you want to get on my good side, then you'll do this for me."

L felt wind on his back as his shirt was pulled up and away, but his mind was obviously more focused on what Raito was doing with his other hand, soft palm stroking him into compliance as he was divested of his jeans as well.

He should have fought back or even attempted to for his pride...

...but really, what was pride in comparison to the pleasure awaiting him.

He had always been the type that cared more for gratification than for worrying about what would lead up to it afterwards, and all his habits were manifestations of that trait. They were only there to serve a purpose, whether to make him feel better as cake did, or to make him feel less anxious as when he bit his nails, and however strange they were and however much someone might look down on him for it, he would never deny himself those small desires.

And since he never cared to deny himself anything he wanted, why in the world would he start now?

L covered the hand moving on him with his own and squeezed his fingers until the hold around him was equally as tight.

Digging his toes into the bed underfoot, he was only able to hold back a tiny fraction of the sounds he was making as Raito continued to pump him, the rest lost to the bedsheets.

He could feel Raito getting into position behind him, all still a blur of observations until he actually felt him pushing inside.

It was unbearable without any lubricant, and the entry made his climax suddenly that much farther away, his erection losing some of the impetus from pain.

However, once Raito had established a cadence and his voice broke across his own -- those sweet dulcet tones that he was all too familiar with when Raito was lost in his pleasure – he felt an answering call in himself; and with senses sharply attuned to the body behind him, his climax was suddenly situated in a place that was reachable.

Raito had redoubled his motions on him and L felt himself shuddering but not coming. He was so ready that he actually felt himself lurch, a thread of precome escaping from the tip and webbing across Raito's fingers and seeping onto the bed.

"Good?" Raito crooned in his ear, and L was too incoherent to answer, utterly light-headed from the nearness of that purring voice as it caressed down his sweat-damp neck and the slow and thorough way he was now working him.

Lying there tense and apprehensive, he did not give back to Raito, knowing the brunette liked going at his own pace rather than having himself rushed along in the frenzy that his other was currently experiencing merely from his hand.

It was pretty much over for him when Raito began to kiss him on the neck, his orgasm being wrenched out of him and spilling out from between their joined fingers; the brunette following him not long after, silken strands tickling his back as his head hung down and he panted for air.

Everything had gone muted in that moment of respite, like the world's noises were wrapped in cellophane, and hovering there between love and reason, and watching as Raito slid his hand away so he could wipe it on the sheets under them, L found himself closing his eyes and not caring anymore.

* * *

**A/n:** These two need therapy. Lots of therapy. 

**1.** **Juku** – cram school

**2.** **Kiyoko** – female name that means "pure" and "child"


	27. Stubborn Habit

L turned on his side uneasily, the bed creaking until he rolled back over and was staring up at the ceiling fan, white blades spinning softly. Turning his head, L stared at the body on the other side of the bed -- faced away from him, but breathing deeply.

He turned back to stare at the ceiling fan, sighed, and then sat up to search around for his pants.

_Stupid…_

He pulled on his jeans and sat on the edge of the mattress, gazing off into space.

_He was so stupid sometimes._

What did he think he was doing? What did he think he was doing going after Raito this way when he had sworn to leave it be?

Moments of weakness, yes he had them, off and on he was guilty as any other person was of becoming confused and seeking out quick-fix solutions to banish what was troubling him. He took his moral short-cuts like everyone else -- he knew that. But he also recognized in himself an invaluable spring of control that he had used and maintained throughout the years.

Control that had made him, forced him to finish the Kira case, to secretly take Higuchi's deathnote, the one that had once belonged to Raito, to take it with him on that day to the church when he had wanted to do nothing but put his whole faith in Raito, to believe that he would not betray him.

And then having everything fall apart in front of him, having to continue to be near his would be murderer, talking to him even; witnessing the evil in his heart and then knowing the whole time he would have to put him to death – self-control and certainly a bit of madness had played key roles in retrieving Misa's deathnote and properly closing out that case.

But for all the effort he had put into it, for all the resources and energy he poured into his cause, it always seemed like a drop in the bucket; one that was veritably sucking the life out of him.

So at the end of everything, when he tallied up how each side was faring, and he asked himself 'where did all my strength of mind go?' he knew he had left a good portion of it in that god-forsaken church in Lourdes (probably had bled it out all over the floors), while the rest he had used up to sustain him through Raito's incarceration.

Now depleted of what he needed most, the strength that he had needed yesterday when so caught up in what was being said he had reacted irrationally – what was he supposed to do?

L rested his forehead against his knees.

He was just so tired of this… Of putting himself in this situation and not knowing what to do.

It was very taxing for a person who had never dealt with others on a regular basis, and then to be dealing with someone as intricate as Raito, day in and day out, with nothing more to go on than his notions -- it was no surprise he wasn't getting anywhere.

But it wasn't like he wanted Raito to accept him, or to forgive him for the things he had done. His actions weren't something that needed forgiveness because they were intentional. Even the scars on his back that were not his doing, those were symbols of consequence that the brunette would have to carry with him forever. L would never think to apologize for the things that happened in Russia, and it would be a cold day in hell when Raito apologized for anything he had done to him in the name of his beliefs.

They at least understood that much about each other, and it was the only place where their opinions did not drastically diverge and go their separate paths.

What L wanted from Raito was not love -- he could cater to his impossible dreams in small ways, but somewhere deep down he knew it was never going to work out. Therefore, he did not want love from Raito. No, what he wanted from Raito was for him to acknowledge his feelings.

He didn't like how quickly he had dismissed him, and even though it would have been safer to let the brunette continue to think that way, it just bothered L more than he cared to admit.

He knew that he was the last authority to go for in matters of love. He had never even given it more than a cursory definition up until recently. He viewed it as that thing that happened between people who'd been brought together because their lives happened to cross paths; to people who were physically attracted to each other, who began to grow interested in the other's life, who maybe thought it was a good idea to spend an indefinite amount of time with the person.

And really nothing had changed in his definition, because that was essentially what it was. You met the person, you got to know them, things happened that made you feel you were connected, and then you were having suddenly irrational thoughts like 'I wonder if he hates cake, because he always makes a subtly troubled face when he sees me eating it' or 'he will get over that once we start living together'…

L might not have any similar experiences to compare his love, but he felt a deep and blind conviction for it. It was the second time in his life that he felt so strongly towards something that he did not have any definite proof of – the first being his belief that Raito was Kira when he was constantly being assaulted with evidence that said otherwise.

He had been right back then and he knew he was right now.

He was in love with Raito, and however much the brunette kicked up a fuss, and belittled him for it and came up with different reasons as to why he was deluding himself, he would not listen.

After all, if there was one topic that L was absolutely confident of, it was L himself, and no one, not even Raito, would be a match for him there.

L lifted his head when he felt the bed shifting and watched Raito as he turned on his back, the brunette wincing slightly from his motions – most likely from the scars -- and rolling over to face him. He sighed deeply, and it did not take much for his breathing to level out again and for him to fall back under the spell of sleep.

Grateful that he would not need to face Raito at the moment, L turned away from him and towards his own conflicting thoughts.

He might know where he stood on readiness for commitment with the brunette, but it still did not mean he should have let yesterday happen. It was a bad idea in general to give into Raito when he demanded to have his way. It usually caused his oversized ego to get out of control, and that was the last thing he needed to deal with right now.

An arrogant Raito was much harder to deal with than an angry one. At least L could duck when things were thrown at him. But there was no such thing as ducking when the verbal abuse was being flung around. And Raito wasn't the type to hold back on anyone's account. He knew exactly what to say to get under his skin.

The sheets rustled and L turned to see Raito finally waking up, the bandages wrapped around his chest and back slipping down as he sat up, revealing an arch of one of the scars, the deformed skin red and painful looking.

It didn't look like Raito was shy about letting anyone see them, and slipping his thumb under the binding that ran over and held up the rest of the loose bandages, he snapped it deftly; the white stripes unraveling quickly and falling in coils around him.

Blood had seeped through some of the gauze (the results of last night's exertions probably to blame), and L could not seem to look away despite knowing he should.

His nose had immediately picked up the sharp smell of an antiseptic as he watched Raito slip out of bed, leaving the bloody bandages behind like a cast-off second skin. The fringes of the first coil was yellowed, and L assumed he had applied a good amount to his injuries to further fight off infection.

That probably explained why Raito was wearing more cologne than usual.

He didn't want anyone to smell it on him.

L heard the bathroom door close and the squick of the lever as the shower was turned on. He should leave before he came back out, but L just sat there pondering about what he would say when Raito was finished.

Yesterday he had set a very wrong precedent, one that he had been trying to prove false for the entirety of their fight. He didn't want Raito to think that he was being persistent with him because he was not getting his way and that sex would shut him up on the matter.

He recognized it was a mistake to sleep with Raito when the brunette did not feel the same way about him. It only added to the troubles surrounding their already complicated relationship with each other. He didn't want to make matters worse between them, so it would be a good idea if he stopped while he was ahead.

The door suddenly opened and Raito walked out of the bathroom just as quietly as he had gone in. He had already put on a new dressing over his cuts, and despite reasoning that he was not the one to blame, L still felt relieved to see them covered up.

Raito had stopped near his closet, and L was certain that he would start dressing in front of him, as past events had proved he had no problem stripping down in front of him, so when Raito instead turned to face him, it made the detective flounder for words.

He was looking directly at him, but from the way his eyes registered no emotion, it was more accurate to say he was looking right through rather than at.

"You look angry," he said off-handedly and L was startled both by his words and the clarity in his voice.

"No…" he replied, not so sure of himself. "I'm not angry. I'm…" he paused, finding it hard to articulate what he was feeling right now.

Why was it so hard to explain this?

"I'm not angry… but I think I'm disappointed." Yes, if he was angry, he would have had a much easier time expressing it. He wasn't angry; he was just disappointed with his behavior and how things were going despite his wanting to change them. He did not know what to do, so he was disappointed in himself.

"I warned you, didn't I?" Raito let his hands fall to his sides. "That whatever you think you're feeling for me isn't real." There was a marked difference in his tone from the one he used yesterday, not sympathetic, but not unkind either.

L looked away as if he could avoid the topic.

"Back then," Raito began soberly, "I did everything you wanted me to do, and because of that, you grew attached to that person. But trust me, you don't want a relationship with the real me. To tell you the truth, I think it would be too difficult for you. It requires a lot of compromise and I don't think you seriously have it in you."

Raito sighed when he wasn't met with a response. He had shifted on his other foot as if it was too much to stand there, looking down on him.

"And to be completely frank," Raito continued, exasperated, "I don't want to tie myself down to you or anyone else for that matter. I had sex with you because you're convenient, but more importantly, you won't carry any illusions that I'm suddenly 'in love' with you now that we did it."

And truth be told, L did not hold any such beliefs. In fact, he was more convinced than ever that these matters had irrevocably hurt any of his chances at getting closer to the brunette.

As Raito had once been convenient for him, he was now convenient for Raito. It was a slap in the face to be told that you were only getting attention because you knew how to shut up and put up with it.

Raito knew not to try this crap with Misa because he knew the girl would kick up an unbelievable storm if he had sex with her and then told her he didn't want to commit and she would have to deal with that. She would at least stick up for herself in this situation and demand a better explanation as to why Raito was being such an intolerable douche (though she might not word it that way).

It was the right thing to do. As a human being with pride, it was the right thing to do. But he was just so tired of caring about things that would never change. He didn't have the energy to fight it anymore.

And when L suddenly thought about how much Misa had given up for the chance to be with Raito, all the things she had given up for him unconditionally – he wondered if he was really deluding himself.

In comparison with hers, his love for Raito seemed to be only a drop in the bucket, one that was ultimately dependent on many complications, like reason and justice.

He would not sacrifice any of his beliefs for Raito, and because of that, he had to ask himself, 'was love always so rational and understated?' unlike Misa's love that flung her entire being into the moment and cared nothing for what would come of it.

Should integrity have any place in these feelings of his?

Only a few minutes ago had he been certain of his feelings, but as soon as Raito had voiced his opinion, it shook the foundation of his confidence. And he could blame this train of thought on his consummate need to uncover all possibilities before reaching a conclusion, but he was a man first and then a detective. Not the other way around. Going about this in the same way he would go about solving a case wasn't the right way to go about this… was it?

L stood up.

He was having a serious crisis over this matter and nothing would be accomplished by sitting here and waiting for it to solve itself.

He needed to go out and clear his head.

**

* * *

**Mello couldn't wait to be outside, something about wide-open spaces and the freedom to run around without having to stop called out to him. It was around eight, and most of the children were downstairs, having breakfast, preparing for today's classes, or getting an early start on recess. There was usually a small group kicking around a ball at this time of the morning, so he would muscle in on their game. He needed the exercise since he'd been cooped up in his room all week, studying for those unfair tests that that bastard had created. 

The blond scowled at the mere thought of Kiyoshi.

He was such a prick, frolicking around the institution like he didn't have a care in the world, and then giggling at them with that uppity face of his. That guy was just begging to pushed down a flight of stairs, Mello thought, but was suddenly distracted from what that would look like when he came upon L's room, the detective standing in front of his door and –

Mello rubbed at one of his eyes. Studying in dim light and skipping out on sleep was obviously not doing his eyes any good, but even so, for them to playing tricks on him now -- he hadn't expected that.

"What… are you doing?" Mello questioned, obviously alarmed by what he was seeing.

L stopped hitting his head against his door and it slumped against the wooden frame. "Correcting the problem," he told him simply before turning in his direction. "Is there something I can do for you, Mello?"

The boy shook his head numbly. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine now." L pressed a hand to his forehead. "Maybe it was not a good idea to do that, but sometimes the only cure for a hard head is something of equal strength."

Mello blinked and then "Are you sure you're okay? Did something… bad happen?"

L stopped rubbing his forehead and stared back at him with that unreadable expression.

"Don't worry; it's nothing that you should be concerned with. Adults have their problems and they work it out – or so I'm told."

Mello didn't know anything about that, but he was still concerned. "So you're not going to tell me?"

L smiled and patted him on the head, as if that would solve whatever problem he was facing. Then he added mysteriously, "This is a time in your life when many things will not be making much sense to you. I do not wish to add to your confusion."

_Huh?!_ The space between Mello's eyes scrunched together in that confusion that L was ironically trying to spare him from.

"But if I could leave you some worthwhile advice," L posed, strangely lost in thought, "I think I would like to warn you about the follies of forming relationships with certain types, especially with those who are as smart or even smarter than yourself. Equality in relationships, I find, is actually quite overrated. It's much harder to get along with someone who is always one-step ahead of you, so choosing a partner that thinks at a slower pace might be more beneficial to maintaining a relationship, than let's say, having two individuals who are at constant ends with each other because they know what the other is thinking."

Mouth agape, Mello just stood there, staring at his mentor, his mind racing over what he supposedly meant by_ that!_ He knew, somewhere deep down, that he should be beyond mortified by what L was telling him, but he was truthfully too shocked to do anything but gawk.

"Well, I will take my leave now. I'll see you later, Mello" L called out and the boy nodded dumbly as the detective closed his door behind him.

Out in the hallway, Mello stood in a daze for a good two or three minutes. He wasn't feeling so up to a game of soccer now, and depleted of his usual energy, he instead made his way to the classroom.

He sat at an empty table off to the side, but he could still, as annoying as it was, overhear his peers talking. It was the usual stupid chitchat, and Mello could hardly be bothered to listen (not with what had happened minutes ago still echoing around in his head).

However, as time passed by and the voices of his classmates grew louder, the topic of discussion became apparent and Mello found himself listening in.

They were talking about last night.

Possibly everyone in the hallway and in the neighboring rooms had heard something shattering against the wall last night. It had certainly prompted all curious parties – and there were lots of curious boys and girls at Wammy House – to head towards the commotion.

It was now common knowledge around the institution that L and Kiyoshi did not exactly get along. Practically everyone had seen some form of infighting between the two. Things had mellowed out in the last few weeks in terms of arguments, but the peace had obviously come to a screeching halt when things were shattering against the walls.

And it was definitely not a good sign when the room had gone so ominously quiet.

Unfortunately, no one had found out the reason why this was so, not when Roger, also alerted by crashing things, walked up the stairs and upon seeing them all crowded around Kiyoshi's door (some of them actually pressed up against the frame), started that annoying thing that all adults were prone to do when they happened upon a group of curious younglings:

He started shooing them away -- like he didn't think any of them had ever heard adults fighting before, and since they were orphans and a lot of them had been regulars of the foster care system before becoming residents of Wammy House, they were quite inclined to disagree.

"Even my foster parents didn't fight that much -- and they were both alcoholics."

Mello was not exactly thrilled to be brought back to the present by such a phrase, and he glowered at its loud mouth owner. After all, none of this was L's fault. And no one might actually know why they fought so much, but Mello was certain it had something to do with the fact that Kiyoshi was such a stuck-up asshole, and that was bound to drive anyone, even a reasonable person like L, completely nuts.

Hell, he was driving him bonkers, and he hadn't even spoken to him in the last two months. Mello could totally sympathize with L about annoying people and how even their mere presence in a room could ruin a person's day.

Speaking of which, Mello thought, as he heatedly glared at the white tuft of hair on the opposite side of the classroom, hunched over in a chair and solving another one of his jigsaw puzzles.

By the looks of it, he was entirely focused on his task. However, one could never be too sure when it came to Near, the white-haired boy looking up in time to meet his gaze head on.

Mello felt his blood crawl as those empty eyes stared back at him, but instead of turning away and giving him the satisfaction (because it was cowardice to not meet a challenge head on), Mello stuck out his tongue at him and made one loud 'nyah' sound.

Near didn't entirely look impressed (well he didn't look entirely anything since Mello had made up his mind a long time ago that Near only had one expression). Mello scowled nastily and was about to go over there and demand to know what his problem was, when Near suddenly, out of nowhere, smirked at him.

He smirked at him?

Mello blinked. He felt sort of out of place right now, and he had no idea why, but it was enough to keep him glued to his seat.

Near had calmly returned to his jigsaw puzzle, and finally remembering himself, Mello made a show of facing away from him and towards the wall. When he had situated himself in properly, he hunkered down on the table and felt his face go a shade brighter.

Today was turning out to be such a weird day.

**

* * *

**There was a knock at the door that made him open his eyes. 

L had been trying to get some rest since he had slept fitfully last night, but luck was apparently not on his side today, and he lay awake for the majority of the evening, annoyingly aware of every detail around him.

Even details outside the room, like that persistent knocking at his door…

L wished whoever it was would go away and stop pestering him. He was not in the mood to deal with anyone, least of all the children. It was uncalled for what he had said to a few of them throughout the day, especially to Mello who had showed concern over his attempt at "clearing his head" (unfortunately no clearing had taken place and he had only ended up with a minor headache). Depression did make him an unreasonable mess, and he would properly apologize to the boy tomorrow, but today, it would be for the best if he were left alone to mope.

Being alone when he was depressed would give him time to work out his issues, and quietly work them out he would have, had this person on the other side of his door understood the rule that after five knocks, it was a good idea to stop.

"Open the door," the voice dryly called, a tad annoyed.

L's head snapped up from his pillow as he recognized who it belonged to, and when he went to do as told, he found Raito standing in his threshold, ever composed and radiant.

"Can I come in?" the teen asked, but consent, apparently, was an unnecessary courtesy when you were Raito Yagami, the brunette crossing into his bedroom and brushing past him with an indifferent sideways glance.

Dumbfounded, L turned around to find his visitor dusting a hand over a corner of his mattress. When he found it suitable, he sat down, and his gaze began to circle his bedroom, unconsciously scrutinizing certain aspects, the thinly veiled expression of disapproval showing through.

"What are you doing here?" L moved away from the door. His voice must have hinted at his unease or his befuddlement because Raito's gaze swiped across the room from the pile of dirty laundry lying on the floor to him with a speed that would have unnerved anyone.

Now that they were rid of the tired shadows, there was an alertness in his eyes that made them gleam like polished copper. A good night's rest had obviously done him good.

"I just came to check up on you," Raito informed nonchalantly, "Or would you rather be left alone?"

L didn't respond, but it was obvious from his expression what his answer would have been if he did.

Quickly picking up on this mood, Raito spoke up on his reasons for the sudden visit. "It wasn't my intention to hurt you," he told him, vaguely alluding to what had transpired this morning. "I only wanted to make it clear that I don't feel the same way. I'm flattered… I guess." He shrugged. "But I'm insulted by it too, so I lost my temper."

It wasn't an apology by any stretch of the word; he was merely explaining his side.

Normally, Raito was a very sensible person. When he grew angry -- not so much -- but L shouldn't have been surprised by his visit. He had been given time to calm down, and unlike L who was still moping, Raito had already gotten over it.

But then again, Raito had always been faster at recovering than he ever was. It was one of those things that made him so mentally strong.

"We've been able to reconcile our difference more than once now, but it doesn't seem to help us in the long run. If anything, our arguments have gotten worse."

Well, he had a point there.

"I don't know how to act around you sometimes because of everything's that happened. It makes me worry that this arrangement is not going to work out, and I obviously have something to fear from that if it doesn't."

L shook his head and walked over, reacting almost instantly; however this time, exceptionally soft-spoken. "I can't force us to get along, but you have nothing to fear from that, Raito. It's my fault that things are going this way, and I should apologize for taking it out on you."

Raito was toying with the end of his sheet and loosening a single string from the pattern, his fingers seizing upon it over and over until he snapped it free.

"It is your fault that things are going this way." He unraveled another thread, slower this time, more pensively. "I can't agree with you more on that," he asserted and suddenly let the thread fall from between his fingers.

"_But_… my other self obviously was encouraging you to act this way, so I suppose…" he sighed, "I suppose I'm somewhat to blame." He gave L a look, obviously not wanting him to express his agreement vocally. Then he stayed quiet, thinking over whatever had come to him during his pause.

"I don't really care how badly he wanted a new world," Raito told him, speaking from a point of view that was both outside the influence of Kira or L. It was always strange hearing him talk about his other self like he was another person, but for Raito Yagami, he could both identify with his past and curse it for all the trouble it had caused him now.

"I don't care how badly he wanted a new world" he repeated, "to sleep with the enemy -- is totally unacceptable. It defeats the very purpose of winning, since securing victory demands that you share a piece of yourself with the person you're in fact trying to overpower. I can understand coercing someone with sex when they're already leaning towards my side, but not when the person is so strongly opposed to my ideals that they would announce on live television that they're going to capture then execute me."

Hmm… L had never looked at it from that angle before, possibly because he'd been too busy getting into both Raito's head and his pants. Though this wasn't the first time he had overlooked something so obvious.

"I don't know what his thoughts were on our more… intimate exchanges, since he didn't comment on them in the journal like he did with everything else" Raito continued, "but I do know myself, and I won't sleep with someone that I'm not at least physically attracted to – or in your case – able to find some quality that can hold my attention."

L didn't know whether he was being complimented or insulted, and truthfully, he didn't care, not when he was starting to grasp where Raito was taking his point.

"It's possible that… he liked you, despite your differences and his obviously wanting to…" Raito trailed off as he caught L looking at him as if he was about to fall over.

Raito blinked, surprised when L suddenly sat down beside him and grabbed him by the shoulders, large black eyes boring into his own.

"Say that again?"

"Say what again?" Raito broke eye contact. "I'm not speaking of it as if it's set in stone, but it is possible. It doesn't change the fact that we were messing around then and we're still messing around now. I told you, didn't I? I don't want a relationship with you or anyone else, and that's the truth." Raito leaned away from his grasp and L slid his hands down his bare arms.

"But… if you want to mess around" he said hesitantly, "then I don't see any problem with that."

L touched his fingers to the inside of Raito's palm and the brunette remained unresponsive. "I cannot simply fool around with you anymore because it holds a different meaning for me than it did then (and even if L was confused about everything, he still knew that much). Can you still make that offer to me knowing that?"

"I'm only suggesting it as an alternative to the mess that we have going on here. You don't have to accept," Raito said breezily.

"Then I won't."

Raito faintly made a noise in the back of his throat, and by the look on his face, he was not entirely pleased by what he was hearing. And L immediately knew that look had nothing specifically to do with him and everything to do with how he was resisting.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing" Raito tersely replied. It was obvious that he was irritated.

"Do not do this to me."

"I'm not doing anything." Raito was staring at him coldly.

"You are an infuriating person." L let go off his hand and stood up from the bed. "You tell me I do not have a chance with you and yet you huff at me when I want to keep my distance."

"I really don't see what the big deal is." And as callous as his words were, Raito showed no remorse for them. "It's only sex."

L shook his head. "You are missing the point."

Raito gently touched him on the wrist as if to sooth him back into compliance, even going so far as to tug at his sleeve. "When did you become so uptight? It's hard to believe you're the same person I met in Japan."

L was drawn back to his previous spot, and Raito scooted closer to him, using that cajoling voice without restraint. "I lost my temper yesterday – I know, but you'll forgive, right. I've been a little… on edge lately because I've been having trouble falling asleep."

Slowly wearing him down, that was what Raito was currently doing; like a pride of hungry lions enclosing wounded prey and chasing it around for sport, before finally striking the killing blow.

L nudged him back by the shoulders when he began to come nearer. "You are only doing this because it irks you when someone does not give you your way. By not sleeping with you, I do not mean it as an insult," he clarified, making certain that Raito understood him in that point; Raito was most likely feeling hard to drop the suggestion because he had been the one to bring it up, and now that L was not agreeing, that probably offended him. "I simply think it would be best for us to keep unnecessary distractions out of our problems this time."

It was a two-sided sword that he was wielding against Raito. On one hand, denying Raito would make things less complicated for him and he would be more certain of his feelings and their sincerity, but on the other hand, denying Raito only made the brunette more persistent… which might not be a bad thing, considering that L would have loved this kind of enthusiasm when they had been together.

No one would think that Raito liked people playing hard to get with him, but he obviously found some excitement and annoyance in the prospect of possibly being denied. It was all very irritating to tell the truth, since L had been chasing him all this time and had nothing to show for it, and then when he finally relented, Raito was ready to jump him.

Raito leaned against his chest and L tried to scuttle backwards, but was brought up short by the arm behind him. "What are you so afraid of?" he purred and practically crawled on top of him.

"It is not fear, but my brain finally working." Catching him by a wrist, L was able to drag his hand away, but a second later, he was surprised by the other one as it began to rub his leg. Wide-eyed, but determined to go on, L cleared his throat and ignored the sensation.

"You will never take my feelings seriously if we begin to have casual sex, so there will be none of that tonight." Then he remembered himself. "I mean, there will be none of that ever." L slapped Raito's hand away, but the brunette was hardly discouraged. He even chuckled when L did it again, appearing to find amusement in his displeasure.

"Don't kid yourself, I'm not going to take you anymore seriously if you pretend to be chaste either."

"I can live with that," L said firmly and began to push at his shoulders. "Now get off my lap. You're heavy and you're cutting off the circulation to my legs."

It looked like he was backing off, and L was relieved for the small respite. However, as Raito shifted, L realized with a start where the brunette was now concentrating most of his weight, and with a renewed sense of haste, he pushed at his shoulders more urgently.

He unintentionally shoved him harder than he should have and Raito ended up flat on his back.

"I didn't mean to do that," he hastily swore, concern for his wounds causing him to lean in, uncaring for how easily that put him in Raito's clutches. "Are you –" L felt his words lodge in his throat as it finally dawned on him how very close they were. So close that he could see how rich the color of his eyes were now that daylight was absent -- a dark molten brown color that shone eerily in lamplight.

With the curtains drawn back all the way, a large white and cold moon glowed sumptuously in the background. The shadows cast from the light shifting over Raito's aloof countenance and sharpening his features; the thin lips more defined and the sweep of dark eyelashes even more pronounced.

Night seemed to suffuse right down into his being, all the way to the wildness of hair as the longer strands at the front fell away from his forehead untidily, the moon playing the same revolving trick that sunlight would produce to make his hair look almost blond -- the silken wisps now almost black.

L found himself unknowingly stroking a lock of that hair between his fingers.

"Has anyone ever been able to accurately describe to you how absolutely perfect looking you are?" L asked with utter seriousness, because it still disturbed and amazed him how flawless the outside was when everything inside was so twisted. "Because they would never be able to do that face justice."

Raito smirked. "I find it really telling when you start to sweet talk me."

"Yes… it's very telling," L agreed distractedly, mouth hovering over the place where Raito's upper lip dipped down to join the bottom, those thin lips parting slightly whenever L drifted closer than he should have.

Being so physically drawn to a person that it seemed like madness brought upon by the moon, L would have thought it impossible if someone had told him several months earlier that he would be in this position. He would have probably asked Watari to take them out.

He knew it was foolish – what he was doing. Like fighting the inevitable when it was already upon him. But it was so easy to forget all the wrongs they had done to each other. When he simply gazed at Raito and nothing else, it was all so easy to forget.

He still believed casual sex would not help their situation, but those words Raito had spoken earlier, _"It's hard to believe you're the same person I met in Japan," _they made him wish he could go back to that time, when he was simply fascinated and suspicious of Raito, and he never cared whether this person liked him in return. When he had sex with him because he simply _felt like it_ and he wanted to get a glimpse at the person behind the mask. When did his reasons for wanting to be with Raito become so convoluted. He'd wanted to investigate his suspect, he'd wanted to have fun while he was at it too, because working on a case was the only thing he enjoyed, and Raito had shared that sentiment, that casual work ethic -- he still did, apparently.

"I do not know whether to kick you out of my room or kiss you." L cupped his chin solidly, thumb now tracing a path across his lips that his own mouth was dying in earnest to follow.

L tilted his head, stopped, leaned in and stopped again. He licked his lips as an afterthought, feeling strangely anxious and finding it absurd. He swallowed his nerve, but sensing that he was not going to be able to stop once he started, he ended up only getting as far as his cheek.

Underneath him, Raito made an exasperated sound and finally broke his languor as he abruptly turned and caught up to the mouth that had eluded him thus far.

L sort of seized up, unknowingly holding his breath for the first tense seconds – before he exhaled in a shudder and his body went slack. He slowly lowered himself on Raito, finding with each passing second they kissed that his arms were growing weaker, and unable to fight gravity, he pushed Raito into the mattress, thoroughly enjoying the slow and engaging way his mouth moved in time with and yielded to his own.

"Don't press down too hard -- my back," Raito murmured into his mouth.

Remembering himself, L eased up considerably onto his arms. He trailed away to the underside of Raito's jaw, his mouth only grazing the skin. "I'll kick you out later," he said, but the promise in his voice was made trifle by the way he went about laying kisses on his throat, one at a time and as tenderly as possible.

Raito exhaled slowly, determinedly. "Are you really now?"

L raised his head. It was truly bothersome how Raito could read his mind sometimes.

"No, it probably won't happen anytime tonight." L undid the first two buttons on his shirt, parting the collar and exposing more of his chest. "I do not know why you enjoy toying with me so much. You were probably a whore in your last life."

Raito scoffed at that. "Then what does that say about you since you're always after me for it."

L lowered his head and looked away, gazing out the window.

"I was probably your number one paying customer."

**

* * *

**

**A/n: **A major theme in deathnote is obviously rivals. The first arc being all about the "Raito vs. L" However the second arc, as much as it centers on "Raito vs. Near" Near's one true rival, in my opinion, was always Mello. When you think about it, the "Raito vs. L" and the "Mello vs. Near" rivalries are very similiar to one another. It's almost like Raito and L one generation down. That idea kills me.

**1.** The word "lunacy" stems from the word for moon or "luna," because, if I remember correctly, it was once believed that on nights when a full moon was out, people were more open to act on criminal behavior, or deviate from their normal behavior. It was believed that the full moon had a certain dangerous effect on people. But I think the myth stemmed from the fact that back then, way before electricity was introduced, criminals and/or those with mental health disorders simply found it more convenient to come out on moonlit nights; for one, they had the cover of darkness to aid them in their crimes, but more importantly, they could actually see to commit them.


	28. Starting Line

The majority of Wammy House was an abnormally self-centered bunch because (1) that lifestyle suited anyone who was aiming to become the next L, and (2) they were still children, some of them barely teenagers and now striving through that awkward phase in life.

But unlike other children their age who were brought together under the same roof to learn, they wouldn't be going home to a family after school let out. To call Wammy House a school would be to insult the intelligence of the population as a whole. It implied that learning and life were two separate things, split down the middle. That learning only took place in a building surrounded by chalkboards and under the supervision of instructors, while the living was done outside that building: at home, in town, and generally wherever tests weren't given.

To learn – was their life. Everyone in this orphanage needed to become smarter. For whatever reasons was their own business, but they were all motivated more than your average teenager. They would have to be, since they had been hand-selected to become a part of this institution.

Obviously, no one expected them to be in study mode twenty-four-seven, and a few of them were prolific crammers: Matt being notoriously known for his sleepy-eyed look come the day of the exam.

Everyone had their own style of learning and Roger would leave it up to them. The institute had a remarkably hands-off approach. Roger watched over them while they had morning classes and gave them suggestions, but his role was more to observe, to be L's eyes when the man was not around. He provided all the material, but it was left up to them on how they would utilize it in order to score high on the exams.

To them, Wammy House was so much more than a school for the gifted. It was a place where you were constantly being rewarded for your efforts; and it was none of that complimenting crap with a smiley-faced sticker either, that for all its good intentions still seemed overly-patronizing to any child that had his eyes set higher. When anyone showed marked improvement, or continually kept their spot in the top three, they were usually given whatever they wanted. It was one of the reasons why Near's toy pile was now bordering on the monstrous, Mello had a diet that more or less consisted of chocolate, and Matt could always be seen with a new game come every week.

No one was encouraged to study because "good boys and girls learned their lessons." If Roger had ever tried to feed them that dose of bull (and the man was so much smarter than that), they would have laughed in his face.

They all made an effort because not only were they given the chance to take over a name as prestigious as L and become a world-class detective (possibly the coolest job in existence), but they were being rewarded for their improvements every time exams rolled around.

It also didn't hurt that they were provided with the latest technology that money could buy. No one ever had want for anything at the Institute since Wammy and L provided for them with the alacrity of a doting parent. And unfortunately as a result, it took no liberties in speech to say the children of Wammy House were spoiled rotten. To the point where personalities were unaccommodating, and they came off mostly as intolerable to outsiders who did not understand their ways.

But that was merely another pit stop in their journey to become the best. If you cared about what others thought of you, then the title of "L" did not belong to you; nor would any of the residents allow you to even have a glimpse at it.

It took a special breed to walk these hallways due to the amount of pressure that regulated their daily life. What came off as terribly self-absorbed (and they were, no point in denying that) was their great attention to detail and how insanely dedicated they were to their studies.

However, as bad as they came off, their most self-involved resident was not necessarily one of them. Nor was he a child that was coming into his own, as he was almost at the end of his teenage years and long matured in what others expected of him. This was apparent from the refined manners he displayed at dinnertime, when half of them were playing with their food; the immaculate dress that for all its casualness never showed a wrinkle, while theirs had grass and food stains all over it; the polite and yet blatantly haughty tone he took with each of them, but was careful not to use around Roger or Miss Bethany.

He was vastly different from what they were used to dealing with when a rare addition was made to their ranks. Both him _and_ the girl.

The girl even more so. They were at a total loss on how she fit into the picture. But they had their suspicions and many believed her to be L's girlfriend; he would have to be serious if he trusted her enough to bring her home with him.

Though most contested that assumption by pointing out that Minako was always making kissy faces at Kiyoshi. She also hung out with the brunette more than she did with L, and while that should have been enough proof to settle the question of who exactly Minako was going out with, those who had already pegged her as L's "kanojo" were not quick to change their minds.

Nor was her bickering with their mentor (which to them seemed like something a girlfriend would do) and him subtly egging her on, serving as discouragement for their young minds. Not when the mindset at the Institution for expressing crushes was usually to insult that person in front of everyone, and then harass them until they altogether ignored you or (and this was if you were lucky) tried to attack you on the playground. They had seen Minako slap L a few times, so for them that was as good a sign as any that she was his girlfriend --

Or she hated his guts…

Whatever the reason and whoever of the two was her boyfriend, everyone could agree that there was something _very_ strange going on there. Most of the older kids would joke around and call it "ménage a trios" while others defined it as an old-fashioned "love triangle."

It was just another scenario for the mystery pile they had at the Institution. Others that had come long before it being, "Was Mello really a flat-chested girl in denial?", "Did Near ever study?", and possibly the biggest conundrum so far, "Why the hell did Matt wear those stupid goggles every where he went?"

Although as far as scratching one's head over the sketchy details of her presence, everyone generally liked Minako. She was very different in comparison to the adults that they had encountered so far. Not as puzzling as L, or mean-spirited as Kiyoshi. Apparently, she was really…

… silly. She laughed a lot and came off as a regular ditz, but she was possibly the friendliest person they had ever met. She also, for the life of her, couldn't keep any of their names straight, and she had come up with nicknames for all of them. And while they appreciated the thought, some of the things she called them were so embarrassing and cutesy that some of the boy couldn't help but blush and mumble anytime they were in her presence. Some of the girls loved it, while others were just as embarrassed as the boys were and ran like the devil were at their heels when they saw her coming.

No one knew if her personality was merely a front, because it was difficult envisioning, as L had mentioned upon introducing her, a normal girl like this helping him out with the Kira case.

All of them knew how to disguise their intellect behind an oblivious façade. So was Minako really as dumb as she was letting on? Anyone who came here was obviously hiding another side to them, one that did not fit in with regular society, and the fact that she knew L was more than enough to be suspicious of.

Both Kiyoshi and Minako came off as totally foreign to the Institution. Not because they were from Japan -- a good majority of the children were not native born either -- but because they seemed to have been taken right out of a fashion magazine.

It was possibly the most bizarre sight known to man to see all three of them sitting in a room together. You would think "hell would freeze over" or something to that effect if people this different inhabited the same space for more than a few seconds.

Minako: cute, cheerful, and constantly dressed in black, like she was in a perpetual state of mourning; the Gothic Lolita wear was a new thing for them, but they would be all lying if they said they didn't like it on her.

In contrast to her was Kiyoshi, who was as uppity and handsome as your well-groomed heir. He was always simply dressed, and yet always able to make himself look like the classiest person in the room.They thought it might be the wonders of an ironed-shirt at work, but they supposed it also had something to do with the aura of "touch me with your grubby hands and die" that constantly followed him around.

Then there was L, who also stood out in the looks department… just not for the same reasons as Kiyoshi and Minako. They liked to think that that was his strong point, because the only way L would be able to conceal his intellect was if he hid it behind a wall of equal bizarreness. And if they might add, that wall of bizarreness had to be pretty big to hide that amount of genius.

Certainly this environment and the circumstance that had brought them all here had turned some of them strange. But no matter how many generations came and went, they could all say with confidence and possibly some relief, that none of them would ever be able to match L in that regard.

Truly, he was in a league of his own -- a really bizarre league that liked to eat cake while sparingly offering up advice that could either be very helpful or could make absolutely no sense, and worse off, freak them all the hell out.

Overall, everyone would agree that L had not changed much over the years. He still looked as sloppy and out of it as ever. Nothing at all like the appearance-conscious friends that he had brought back with him. Really, to compare those two to L was like comparing the night to the day. They simply had no idea how their mentor had made friends with, or more to the point, how he had even come across them in the first place.

Of course being more than willing to solve this mystery, everyone had already come up with their own interpretation as to how it had happened, the two prevailing scenarios going a little something like this:

Scenario #1: Kiyoshi somehow had connections with the Japanese police. L noticed him through these connections. And if Minako was Kiyoshi's girlfriend then that would explain how they'd all come to know each other.

Scenario #2: L had seen them on the street and kidnapped them. They wouldn't put it past their mentor to do something like that. Not to insult L, but he seemed like the sort of person that whenever he saw something he liked, he would simply take it, no matter the consequences.

And for anyone that had ever witnessed the detective's forceful cake-eating etiquette (as if he believed the thing was trying to run away from him), it made a strange sort of sense that L would acquire friends in the same take-charge and indelicate manner.

The only problem with scenario two -- other than the wild supposition it had started from -- was that while they could understand why L would want to kidnap somebody as cute as Minako, they were unsure as to why their mentor would then turn around and voluntarily subject himself to the evil that was Kiyoshi. No matter how smart, handsome, and charming the package that it arrived in was, evil was still evil.

They were only glad that Mello, the resident evil, had been forced into hibernation and was currently studying his butt off to thwart the new evil, because there was no way they would be able to put up with the physical bullying from him and then have to enter the classroom and be mentally bullied by Kiyoshi.

But as bad as things were at the moment, they could not lose faith. There was a silver lining to every dark cloud, and while it may be cheap, their silver lining happened to be the very same thing that Kiyoshi inflicted upon them on a daily basis with his condescending attitude and unfair tests.

Plainly put, they pestered him every chance they got.

Kiyoshi had a cold, humorless personality that was difficult to offset. Any insult that came his way would usually be met with the "I'm rubber, you're glue" state of mind, and in the end they would usually be left feeling unsatisfied because nothing seemed to faze the brunette.

The only upside to their constant harassment was that sometimes, if they were annoying enough (and oh they could get pretty annoying), Kiyoshi would make this overly prissy face at them and suddenly relocate. It was funny to watch, and it had reinvigorated their fighting spirit a number of times.

Kiyoshi had those airs about him that made it feel like to approach him was the world's greatest insult. It was unnerving, but at the same time many of the children liked to see the different degrees of disgust (and there was a wide array) that would unconsciously cross his face and remain there until they stopped bugging him.

They could tell he didn't want anything to do with them. But that only spurred them on the more in terms of seeking him out. And again, he would get such a prissy look on his face at their questions that most of the children found it impossible to leave him alone when that happened.

Right now, for example. He was kneeled over by the gates, lacing up his sneakers, and looking like he was going out for a morning jog.

A few of them had broken away from morning recess to pay him a visit. Their thoughts: since he was making them so miserable, it only made sense that they returned the favor. Not to mention it was tons of fun.

"Kiyoshi."

The brunette glanced at them and then returned to knotting his laces, dismissive.

They always found it hilarious how irritated he would look when someone called out to him without a honorific. Call it his Japanese sensibility at work, but he let it slide like it was nothing for Roger and Miss Bethany.

"Where're you going?"

"Where does it look like I'm going," he answered coldly and stood up, tapping the front of one of his sneakers on the concrete, and then tugging the back to fix it in place. When he realized that they weren't going anywhere, he rolled his eyes and waved them away, like they were a bunch of untrained dogs.

"But we wanted to ask you a really important question," one of the other boys chimed in, grinning. "Like what was up with that loud shattering noise in your room Friday?"

"Noise? Oh that," he said, like they weren't worthy to be let in on the secret. "I'm amazed that everyone has the time to ask me about something so trivial when exams are coming up? Or is the material not challenging enough for you."

"Sca--ry."

And it was not an exaggeration on their part to describe his expression as such. Kiyoshi had the classic Jekyll and Hyde personality. He would be smiling politely one minute, and right after all the adults left the room, he would tell them in so many words to "get lost." They assumed he was showing his true face because he didn't think their opinions mattered either way.

"I hope he doesn't have anything breakable on him. He might throw it at us."

Everyone burst into laughter, but instead of ignoring them like he usually did, they found the brunette smirking along. He was also staring over their shoulder and waving at someone.

"Roger-san," he called, voice now suspiciously a tone higher than usual, and unbelievably girly sounding.

They all knew what a tone like that meant.

"I think you have some strays over here. I'm worried one of them might sneak out with me," he laughed, pointing to children at the front of the pack.

"Recess_ is _about over," the older man noted as he glanced at his watch. "Yes… I think it'd be best if everyone came in now. It's actually quite warm out there today." Roger began to round up the children by the stairs and everyone playing in the yard could not help but groan out loud.

They had fifteen minutes left, dammit.

Looking up from his duties of shepherding the smaller ones inside, Roger called out, "Are you going for a run?"

"Only around the block. Don't mind me; I just wanted to get some fresh air." He opened the gate and took one last look at the group that had been bothering him. "Judging by the last scores on your mock exams I'd say I'm doing you all a favor by sending you in early to study. If it were up to me, none of you would have recess at all. Not with pathetic scores like that."

The gate clanged behind him and they heard him chuckle something about "the next L, my foot" before he started off with a light jog down the sidewalk, looking like he couldn't give a rat's ass about the half a dozen teenagers glowering at the back of his head.

* * *

There were not many things in life that Near hated, or even cared about enough to have such a strong reaction to. He could list instances that he could do without, like having to go outside for long periods of time or when his favorite play-spots were occupied by his peers.

There were not many things he disliked, but there was one thing he found detestable.

Near stared into the cupboard where they kept the boxes of cereal, stared in particular at the one he wanted, yet was residing on the last shelf and clearly out of reach.

Why did they always do this?

No one except the adults were tall enough to reach the top shelf without using a chair, so then why was it that cereal was always kept on last shelf?

Did Miss Bethany or Roger not understand that children ate cereal too? Or did they forget that there was a big difference in height between them?

Whatever the reason, he would need a chair.

Near continued to stare at the last shelf where innocently resided the desired box of cereal.

Was it even worth it at this point?

Before Near could answer that question for himself, he heard familiar voices and turned in time to see Kiyoshi walk into the kitchen, L following behind. L went straight for the refrigerator and shoved his head in all the way, like he was ready to climb in and close the door behind him. It was safe to say he had not noticed that anyone else was in the kitchen. Kiyoshi, on the other hand, had immediately noticed him and seemed to recognize his plight. Near could tell, because one side of his mouth twitched up, like he thought it was funny.

"Do you need some help?" he asked, all fake nice, and for lack of anything to say, Near pointed at the one he wanted. Everything was packed in solidly so Kiyoshi used one hand to keep the unwanted items in place while he pulled the box of cereal from the shelf with the other.

Curling a strand of hair around his finger, Near watched the brunette listlessly. He had never wanted to accept his help in the first place, but he was stubborn to let Kiyoshi think his presence bothered him. That would only lead to the brunette having an even greater sense of superiority over him and that would not do.

However, if he walked away now, he could avoid the hassle of this situation all together. Near thought about it and decided that he liked that approach better. He turned to leave, but as he was doing so, something peculiar caught his attention.

Kiyoshi was wearing a t-shirt. Now there was nothing strange about that. It was summer and light clothing was preferred. It might be a little odd to see him sporting the regular t-shirt without a button-up over it, but this small discrepancy was nothing to blink at.

No, that was not the problem. The problem was that when he had stretched both hands towards the cupboard, his t-shirt had ridden up just a little. But because he was wearing his jeans low (no belt today), a part of the almond-hued skin of his lower back went exposed, and Near found himself staring at two bruises adjacent to each hipbone, in exactly the same spot, like they were mirror reflections of the other.

**"…"**

How exactly did someone get bruises like that?

Fortunately, he was provided a clue -- a rather big one -- when Minako ran into the kitchen like she was on fire. "Help!" she shouted, jogging on spot and pointing at the door like that would make anyone understand her.

"One of the boys tried to eat something from a toy he was building. I think he's in trouble because he won't stop crying. What should I do?!"

"If he's crying then he's not choking," Kiyoshi interjected calmly, handing him the cereal and walking off towards the blonde.

"Most likely he is crying because it did not taste good," L added. "They might look very appetizing, but I have been let down by one too many Lego blocks in my childhood."

There was a pause before the girl abruptly turned to Kiyoshi – possibly because L was giving her strange answers – and asked again, more emphatically this time, _"What should do?!_ I don't want to tell Roger-san one of them swallowed something and it made him sad."

"Then don't," L told her, not even caring that the question had been for Kiyoshi. "You can stay with us and eat cake. I think that would be preferable." Though possibly the worse part about all of this was that he didn't even have to think about the answer he was giving her.

"I wouldn't worry about it," Kiyoshi added while he took a seat at the counter. "All the children here are pretty..." He glanced over at L, substituting the actual word of special for the image of a person who casually admitted to eating colorful blocks in his childhood and lived to tell about it. "They're pretty… resilient," he finished, having found a more appropriate word, "so I doubt any one of them could be brought down so easily. In fact," he said, as nonchalant as ever, "I'm only surprised he did something as normal as swallowing one block and didn't find some way to swallow the bucket instead."

Not exactly models of the responsible adult, Near thought, grateful that he was solely under the charge of Roger and not any of these three.

"I was thinking I shouldn't tell anyone either," the girl said in conspiring tones, "but then I felt bad because Roger-san told me I should come to him if anything goes wrong."

"That is just a formality," L enlightened her as he shoveled a large piece of Bavarian Almond Torte into his mouth. "He does not actually want you to contact him if something were to go wrong. That is why Miss Bethany is here. She actually cares."

"Oh." Minako said simply. Then she covered her head with her hands and made a pained sound. "That means she'll yell at me. I don't want to be yelled at." Grabbing onto Kiyoshi's forearm she tried to pull him from his seat. "Please come with me," she pleaded. "Nothing bad will happen if you're there."

By the face he was making at her, Kiyoshi seemed to disagree. "I don't want to," he said plainly and glanced over at the detective. "Why don't you take her?"

"If I were to show up Miss Bethany would think that I was somehow involved in the incident. However, if you were to go then she would know that the child was being stupid on his own. I would rather if that were the case."

"I still don't want to."

Whoever it was could have died by the time L and Kiyoshi had finished listing the reasons why the other was so much better suited to deal with the situation of small child swallowing strange things.

Since Kiyoshi was especially stubborn and would not budge an inch from his seat – he apparently did not want to go anywhere near the dwelling grounds of five year olds – L had relented and offered to accompany the blonde. She, of course, turned him down flat, grabbed Kiyoshi by the arm, and started pulling again. Which was obviously not the best way to go when dealing with said brunette, Kiyoshi yelling at her and then at L, and getting both to exit rather quickly.

Though not before L handed him the plate of Almond torte (because children loved cake and he would not share) and told him to "keep it safe" until he returned to claim it once more.

Near had moved over to the side in order to get away from the commotion. He had been wondering what the chances were that someone would walk into furniture not only twice, but hit themselves in practically the same spot, except on the other side. Probability wise, it didn't seem very likely. The shape and location of the two bruises were way too similar for it to be accidental; neither did Kiyoshi come off as clumsy. Plus, as soon as he had seen Minako, it wasn't hard to piece it together and conclude that his aggressive girlfriend was giving him hickies in weird places.

A good amount of the children believed, for some reason, that Minako was L's girlfriend, but Near was more inclined to believe that she was with Kiyoshi. The majority of the time she was hanging off his arm, not to mention that during the past few weeks, he had even seen her sneaking out of his room early one morning.

With bowl of cereal in hand Near climbed up on the closest stool and began to eat. Beside him, Kiyoshi was graciously helping himself to L's cake and looking none to troubled over his actions.

So much for keeping it safe, Near thought, further wondering why L had hired such a disobedient guy to work for him. For someone to casually partake of L's precious cake -- knowing full well the high regard he held for each slice -- was possibly the second greatest insult the detective could be made to suffer, the first being to insult his intelligence.

"How are your studies going?" the brunette asked, as he drew the fork out of his mouth slowly, tasting the last remnants of the stolen cake.

"Fine" he answered dryly. "But I don't think that's any of your business since you're the enemy."

"Enemy?" He gave him a somewhat wounded look. "Sure I've said some harsh things, but I only do it for your own good."

For his own good?

Ever since meeting Kiyoshi, it had always bothered Near how confident he was of his victory. It seemed unreasonable to continue to think that way when even though more qualified, L had yet to announce him as his successor. That had to say something. And yet here he was, still so confident of himself.

Was there something that Near was missing?

He stared at Kiyoshi as if it would become apparent if he looked hard enough.

Where did his confidence come from?

When Near noticed the brunette fixing his shirt over his beltline, the thought that 'those two marks would be about there' sprung up on his mind before he could do anything about it. He felt a rare discordance settle among his thoughts, and as if to avoid it bodily, he glanced up quickly. Unfortunately, a pair of amber eyes were waiting for him, boring into him rather icily and freezing him to his spot so he could not even turn away.

"Hmm." He could hear the smile in his voice. "Did you get a good look?"

"At what?" Near asked, densely.

"That's what I'd like to know. Don't tell me you're hitting puberty."

Near could brush off any comment aimed his way, but sometimes he found himself oddly bothered by the brunette's casual way of talking down to him. And as much of a hassle as it was to respond to Kiyoshi's nasty little insults, Near would make a special exception for this big mouth.

"I wouldn't know," he answered sedately; "but you and the 'bruises' near your hip would probably be able to tell me."

Kiyoshi stopped what he was doing and turned to look at him.

"And none of your files said anything about how much of a little smart-ass you are," he chuckled, appearing not particularly bothered that Near had noticed them. Actually, he seemed amused. "I would have been more cautious if I thought for even a second you knew what a hickey was."

"I'd rather not know, since what you and your girlfriend do is your own business."

For some reason the smile that Kiyoshi turned on him was downright mischievous. "You're right. It is none of your business what my girlfriend and I do together. I don't think Minako would appreciate me having this conversation with anyone, but then again, those marks have nothing to do with her. Or not those particular ones anyway," he said with a distinct leer.

Near felt a knot in his stomach and he was tempted to get up from his chair and walk away. It would be the first smart thing he did since he had run into Kiyoshi.

"Do you want to know who gave them to me? It's _definitely_ something that you and Mello should know about -- being his successors and all."

This guy couldn't possibly be suggesting… was he simply making fun of him? It seemed like it, but wasn't it taking it too far to joke around about something like this?

"Did you think I was bluffing when I said you two have no chance against me when it comes to L? I wasn't only alluding to the mental gap between us."

Joke or no joke, Near thought, this was _not_ funny. "You have a bad sense of humor."

"Humor? I'm being completely serious. I might have fun teasing you, but I'm not one to divulge my business unless I need to make a point.

"You see," he said, resting chin in hand, "L and me are…" he tapped a finger against the counter thoughtfully. "How should I put it so a thirteen year old can understand?"

For the first time in his life, Near was genuinely stunned. He hadn't expected anything like this to come out of his mouth. Even with the amount of tactless comments aimed his way whenever he found himself in the brunette's presence, this was unimaginable…

"Someone should have informed you about_ those_ kinds of things by now, and if they haven't, I'm certain you found out on your own, seeing as how you're always playing with dolls and whatnot…"

As if things couldn't get any worse, now he was being patronized to death. Near continued to stare at him, much too insulted by what he was hearing to do anything else.

"I won't go into details, but we've … been going out for two years now. From that alone you should at least be able to grasp how serious things are between us, and what kind of _position_ that puts me in over you."

Leaning more into the arm propping him up, those graceful fingers spread against his cheek, the middle and ring finger resting against the edges of an tawny-colored eye and the little finger brushing against the corner of his mouth, emphasizing the smirk there.

"Of course you noticed he's stubborn to hand over his title, but the fact that he let me participate despite that feeling says he's not totally against the idea. No matter how disagreeable he may be when business is involved, he's far from unbiased, and is just as susceptible as the next person to make judgments based on what he thinks will benefit_ him_ more. I have more to offer in terms of his happiness than either of you brats, therefore it only goes without saying that he'll chose me hands down. Truthfully, I don't expect him to last another month against me, so expect to hear the results of his choice _very _soon."

Near stared at Kiyoshi and could not bring himself to say a word in edgewise. What was he supposed to say to someone flagrantly telling him they were sleeping with his mentor? It wasn't like it was a challenge that he could respond to.

It was the first time he had ever been put into a situation where he was at a complete loss for words. Something that Kiyoshi was taking full advantage of.

"Oh, but don't get the wrong idea," he said, intimidating tone giving way to fake pleasantries, "I'm not a bad person. It's just that…L is holding me to totally different standards from you two -- standards that actually have nothing do with how much smarter I am than you. That puts me in a tough position where if I don't cover _all_ my bases," and by the way he stressed the word all, it was obvious what was being implied, "I'm not going to even be considered to compete.

"I would fight fair if L wasn't already putting me at a disadvantage," he justified, "but unfortunately I don't have that kind of luxury. Not like you or Mello."

Then he casually added, as if causing the injury wasn't malicious enough, now he had to rub it in, "But how awful that you had to find out this way. Though I doubt _he_ would have said anything to either of you. He's one selfish guy. Doesn't even stop to think how his actions will affect his successors.

"If I were you," he instigated, "I'd be pretty upset right now. I mean, how irresponsible of him to allow someone he's sleeping with to enter into _your _race – isn't that what you're thinking?"

This guy… Near looked at his face and found nothing that he could turn into doubt. It had to be a lie, and yet what was with his perfect poker face?

"If he's permitting this to happen right under his nose then he must not think very much of you, flippantly jeopardizing the _integrity_ of your race like this." He stood, straightening the hem of his t-shirt again. "Not that I could care any less," he said meanly and walked over to the door.

Resting his hand gently on the entranceway, the brunette stopped and looked at him over his shoulder. "Oh, and it may be too late to say this now," he smiled at him, "but as far as each side's circumstances will allow it, let's have a fair fight. Okay."


	29. Inescapable Counterpart

Near was currently having a very bad day.

After leaving the kitchen area he had headed straight for his room, sat down amongst his toys, and pondered for the remainder of the morning what had just transpired.

Like a tower of cards needed to be built one card at a time, Near had taken the first word that Kiyoshi had spoke, laying it down as the foundation for the rest, all the way to the ending word that was still maddeningly echoing around in his head.

He studied as he built, the simple but effective post-and-lintel design of the cards that was comparative to the straightforward manner that Kiyoshi had chose to convey himself. He noted as he built higher up that everything was more prone to fall apart, but for the cards to cease ascending would be like going against their purpose for being; they needed to rise in order to fulfill their roll. He studied the implicit rules that came with making each card stand, likened to the insults from Kiyoshi that held their own unsaid qualities.

That was what Near had concentrated on as he left his room and headed down to the room across from his own. Kiyoshi had been blatant and told him in so many words that he was sleeping with L. An intimidation method, yes, but Near was more concerned with the fact that he had told him in the first place. Why would he tell him? He wanted him to spread it around? But he knew he wouldn't -- he couldn't for that matter, because that would be like admitting it was the truth.

Kiyoshi's claims were not verified; as far as Near was concerned they were lies that he was using to mess with him. Did he take into consideration that Near would have that reaction? Probably. It was most likely the reason why he had told Near and not someone else. He knew he would keep it to himself. But that was where Near ran into problems, particularly in confirming the truth. If he kept this to himself then he would not be able to find out the reality of the situation.

He could possibly go to L, but Near would rather pour molasses on one of his arms and stick it in a fire ants nest than be left with that option. It would be much more convenient to have L clarify, but Near just did not have it in him to endure the awkwardness that would result from such a confrontation. Neither did he feel that embarrassing himself would yield any discernable answers. L would undoubtedly not give him anything as definite as a "yes" or "no" and would probably play dumb, even if the answer was a negative one.

Near knew everyone at the Institution, but he did not talk to any of them on a regular basis. Maybe a word here or there when they asked him a question, but that was as far as his conversation skills went. He was alone and that was how he liked it, but he needed answers, and with him not willing to go physically looking for them himself, that only left him with one person he could turn to.

Knock. Knock.

When he didn't hear an answer, he tried the knob unthinkingly and was surprised to find it opening without resistance. He had only been in this room once in his life, and a long time ago at that, but when he entered it was like stepping into the past; nothing having changed, except maybe for the black-clad figure lying on the bed, limbs grown-out as well as the blond hair tossed across his pillow.

"Matt" Mello called and did not turn around to confirm who he thought it was, as someone other than the redhead entering his room so casually was probably unthinkable to the blond. "Can you switch on the fan? It's always so hot in this room for some reason," he muttered, burying his head in his pillow and searching for a cool spot.

Feeling that he had lost the chance to speak up, Near walked over to the nightstand and did as requested, the soft hum as the fan oscillated further robbing him of his nerve to voice himself.

Diverted, he looked around, his eyes centering on the desk that was in the upper left corner of the room, books littering its surface and even spilling over onto the floor space. The shelves where Mello most likely kept his books were practically empty, a sign that no collection of text was safe when the blond wanted to study it.

Near heard Mello murmur into his pillow, half-asleep but somehow finding the breath to call out: "Wake me up in an hour." Near watched him go absolutely still, certain that he had already fallen asleep, so it startled him considerably when Mello then added in a loud voice, "I need to study; don't forget to wake me up like the last time." He then became motionless again and Near wondered how a person could fall in and out of sleep like that.

But then again this was Mello, who probably took a few catnaps a day, who spent the rest in books, and who could probably not bring himself to think about anything other than achieving his goals. So focused he was on attaining first place that he probably dreamt about it.

As he turned to gaze at the blond face down in his bed of books, Near felt his world also narrowing to a single focus. His sole existence in life was to become the next L. He was here because life had put him in the right place at the right time. It had brought Wammy to that orphanage in New York and had taken him across the Atlantic to another.

Born a genius, he saw it only as natural to ascend the ranks. There was just no other way for him to live, no other path for him to walk but this one. He believed in going with the flow, of meeting your destiny halfway and, if it was meant to be, letting the rest take its natural course. Never had he viewed L's position as a goal; in his mind it was something that would either be gained or lost by the end of his years here.

But Mello was different. He viewed the acquisition of L's title as a goal that would not be accomplished short of him pouring all his blood, sweat, and tears into it. Mello had not been born a genius. He had been given talents early on, but had maintained them only through years of diligent study, had refined them only through sheer will. That second place which he was currently holding onto was the outcome of years of determination and anger, of an inferiority complex that had turned him both vicious and sensitive.

But say whatever you wanted about Mello, his presence at the Institution seven years ago had transformed Near's unattested hold over first place and had finally given it the feeling of being a contest between two. And despite being mired in second place for, all the ferocity he had brought to the race had made Near no longer prone to look forward, but back.

So for Kiyoshi to enter into a contest that he had deemed _theirs _long ago bothered Near more than he liked to admit. If he was going to say who offered him the most challenge it would undisputedly be Kiyoshi. The brunette had all the grace and poise of a born-winner, not like Mello who half the time could not contain his emotional outbursts. Mello was a ball of insecurities, and yet Near would have it no other way. He had no problem going after Kiyoshi, but he would not accept his presence in a race that had always been and would continue to be between him and Mello.

Fingers separating from the lock of white hair it had been curled in, Near touched his hand to the edge of the bedside table, dragging them over the grainy wood and fingering the small trinkets that he encountered along the way: a hair brush, the rosin case for a violin, the beads of a rosary…

Near picked it up, curious as to why Mello had something like this. Was he religious? For some reason that struck him as… oddly fitting. He did not know anyone else who could so effectively turn their suffering into both a pillar and a cross. Mello had a habit of punishing himself. Every time he failed to meet the standards in his head – certainly he would turn his anger outward, but Near believed that the brunt of that rage was turned inwards, towards himself. That anger pushed him onward, made him stronger every day. But as much as it helped in achieving his goals, it was also the very thing that kept him from surpassing Near. That anger made him too emotional, too self-conscious, and with something like that holding him back, he was never going to live up to the person that he wanted to be.

And as Near turned the rosary over in his hand, it made him wonder what the blond would meditate upon when he reached the larger beads, where the burgundy color was more faded. The image of Mello worrying it between his fingers gave him the distinct impression that his meditations could only be about the more _Sorrowful Mysteries – the Agony in Gethsemane, the Scourging, the Crowning, and the Carrying of the Cross…_

What use would he see in the others?

Absorbed as he was in exploring the contents of the nightstand, Near only realized after a compulsory turn of the head that he had woken what he rightly deemed the slumbering beast, those impossibly light green irises watching him through the cascade of blond hair.

"Drop. It" Mello growled, his voice hoarse with sleep, but his movements anything but sluggish as he shot forward and snatched the rosary away and at the same time grabbed him by the front of his white shirt.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" the blond demanded. He tightened his fist in the fabric by his neckline and pulled him forward until Near had a close and rather intimate view of his face, the move done purely in the spirit of intimidation, but for Near not very successful in that right as it was in another.

Mello grabbed the front of his shirt with his other hand, jostling him further. "You have three seconds to answer or I'm throwing you out that window and we'll see just how good you are at flying as you are with everything else."

It was at this point, with Mello staring him down and Near about to explain, that Matt decided to show up, the redhead opening the door without knocking as he was accustomed and coming to a standstill when he spotted them by Mello's bed.

"I don't know what's going on here," he said, taking in Mello's tousled hair and the way he was breathing erratically, "but this is not cool."

"Matt, go open the window for me," Mello said while keeping an impressive glare trained on him. "Near's going to be showing himself out now."

Matt looked uncertainly between them, the situation now dawning on him. "Maybe you shouldn't throw him out that way. It'd be messy."

"I won't if he tells me what the hell he's doing sneaking into my room."

"I came to talk," Near clarified.

"Talk?" This answer perplexed the blond, and if there was one thing Near knew about Mello it was that confusion and him did not go well together. "I don't want to talk to you. What the hell…don't just wonder in here because playtime is over. Do I look like a babysitter?"

Near curled a lock around his finger – "If you wore pigtails and a dress then you could probably pass for one" -- and then uncurled it with the same ease.

There was a terrible silence following Near's words, like the world had suddenly opened up and had proceeded to suck all the sound in the universe into a giant void of doom and teenage awkwardness.

Though some noises seemed to be excluded from the above, as a snort escaped from Matt, quickly followed by all out laughter. The air around Mello, on the other hand, was still as heavy and muted as ever, though that could be explained by his preference to let his fists do the talking for him, the blond raising a hand to strike Near.

Sobering up quickly at that sight, Matt grabbed the blond's arm before his fist could connect. "It was a joke. It's no big deal; just a joke. Don't hit him over something like that; you'll get into a shitload of trouble from Roger if he finds out." Mello never pulled his punches, so it would be obvious to anyone with two eyes if his blow landed.

"Did you hear what he just said to me?!" Indignant, Mello yanked his hand away and went for Near, but Matt grabbed him again, this time with both hands because as girly as he looked, Mello was no sissy.

"I came to talk to you about something important." Near knew that for all his posturing, when those words came from him, the blond would at least not immediately throw him out, though the way he was pulling away from Matt to get to him, that appeared to be the least of his problems. "If you have to hit me then do it after I've said what I need to say."

Fortunately for him, the immediate danger of violence was tempered by his use of the word important. Mello slowed to an almost stop, his anger both yielding to hisresponsibility as one of L's heirs and the revulsion that he was forever letting Near get under his skin. As much as he hated anyone hurting his pride, there were obviously more at stake here.

Studying him with a wary look, Mello moved towards his bed. He had dropped his rosary when he had grabbed hold of Near, the dark color standing out amongst his white sheets like a blood stain, and without a second thought Mello picked it up and shoved it under his pillow, like he didn't want anyone to see that he had such a thing.

"What is it then?" Mello turned to face him, but Near did not attempt to further explain. He was now looking at the other boy in the room and waiting for the redhead to get the hint that three was a crowd. He had come here to speak to Mello, and sharing with anyone else could very well turn into a liability for him.

"That looks like a 'get-out' face," Matt remarked while staring back at him. "You don't want me to hear what you have to say?"

"It's none of your concern," he told him frankly.

Near had nothing against Matt and he suspected the boy, more or less, felt the same. Though they had never once made an attempt to speak to each other – even with the amount of years that had passed since their arrivals – their avoidance was not colored by dislike, but simply by an extreme apathy towards the other's presence. Near only knew Matt as the boy that hung around Mello and he was quite certain that he was viewed similarly unremarkable; probably given the title of "boy who Mello competed against…"

He might have some bad thoughts of him now, but Matt seemed to be a generally easy-going person, who held grudges as long as it took him to press the start button on his Gameboy. Near was confident that by the time he picked up said handheld, he would forgot that this had ever happened.

"Screw this," Matt said and turned to leave. Mello frowned at this reaction from the redhead, but watched the door close all the same. "This better be good," he said after a moment.

Near could not promise that he would like this, but it was something he thought the blond should know. Though to suddenly drop this news on him might not be the best approach. He should at least ease into the topic to not startle him, since he knew what to expect when that happened. There was also another matter that he thought, if known, would shed some light on these events.

"What did L say to you yesterday morning?" He had an idea, since L had given one of the other boys strange advice that said boy had loudly shared with the rest of the class. It made them all think the detective was having girl problems, but maybe there was some truth to that.

"Why do you think L said anything to me?"

The dazed and confused expression you wore, Near wanted to say, but a slip of the tongue might mean a swift punch to the face for him. It would also not be a good move on his part to remind Mello of the expression he had worn as well. It was rare for the guard over Near's face to slip like that, though imagining Mello having an awkward conversation with L seemed to do the trick. There was nothing wrong with showing Mello that face sometimes. Of course it only antagonized him more, but if it was going to remind Mello that they were the ones competing, then what did he care.

"A guess."

"Well you guessed wrong."

"I'll only share my information with you in exchange for what you know." He knew Mello would only continue to be difficult if he didn't make that clear. Paranoid as the blond was that he would take advantage of him -- though in this case he was right to think so -- Near could not insist for an answer without the reminder of equal compensation.

"Then you go first."

Unless Mello wanted to save himself from being rightly freaked out, he would let him go second.

"Was what L said to you that surprising?" he asked, knowing the blond take the bait.

"No" he said defensively, not happy in the least that Near thought he was being reluctant because L's words were a shock to him. "He just told me that… everyone should be more cautious in who they choose to be with."

_Everyone? _Near studied the blond. Was he giving him the wrong pronoun, because "everyone" wouldn't make him look so embarrassed.

"Can you be more specific? I can't tell anything from that."

Mello turned his back to him, all that blond hair covering the margins of his face so not even the hint of an expression could be gleaned. "He said…" Clearing his throat the blond then went onto recount in detail the words L had spoken to him, and as he progressed further into his account, Near could feel his ears going warm.

He was thankful Mello had the foresight to turn around.

"That's it?"

"Mmhm."

An awkwardness had descended on the room. Near could recall no moments in his life where he even felt slightly abashed, but there was always a first time for everything, he supposed uncomfortably.

L had obviously not been thinking when he said this to Mello. What worried Near the most about his words was the suggestion that he, himself, was having a hard time forming a relationship with someone of equal or quite possibly higher intelligence, and that this person and him did not get along because they always knew what the other was thinking. The only person that Near could see as fitting that description would unfortunately be…

Kiyoshi.

Dominant societal perceptions dictated that Minako should be the one L was referring to, and Near would have rather that be the case, as in comparison to anyone at the orphanage, she was not the brightest. If L was pursuing Minako then that would be harmless.

If on the other hand he was pursuing Kiyoshi then that would be a problem for anyone concerned with L's title. He had a healthy amount of respect for L to know that the man would not simply give his title to anyone sleeping with him. But the fact that Kiyoshi was smarter and ultimately more qualified than them – "covering all his bases" as he had put it – made that situation more ambivalent.

Near could call his tactics dirty, but then that would be going against everything he had ever been taught at the Institution, for if there was ever a motto for Wammy House, it would be "secure the win by any means necessary, and Kiyoshi obviously understood that concept -- maybe a little too much.

"What do you think of Kiyoshi?" Near asked, as it would help to guide Mello into the right state of mind before he dropped that bomb on him. Surely that little awareness would go a long way.

"He's a nuisance. How am I supposed to think of a guy like that?"

"You noticed how L treats him?"

Mello said nothing but Near knew he was only sore over the matter of L spending an inordinate amount of time with the brunette. Though still considered the favorite amongst the children, Mello most likely felt annoyance that a person who he had come to view as an enemy had filled a position that none of them at the orphanage could ever fill for the detective.

Because despite how casually L spoke to each of them, he was not their friend. A mentor or a brother-figure, but not a friend. Even Mello, who had grown close to L in the short months that he would visit, had already drawn that mental distinction between himself and the detective. Upon his arrival at the Institution seven years ago, he had even taken to calling him "_große Bruder_," both as a sign of affection and respect. That had probably struck a cord with the detective because he had no family to speak of, so Mello's openness to see him as a brother was probably one of the reasons why L had taken to spoiling him.

L gave them advice and was in charge of each of their futures. Their relationship with the detective was based on a hierarchy, one where he was at the top and he looked out for their best interests. Ultimately, one of them would be benefitting him in the future, but that did not change the fact that their relationship with him was still a one-way street. Communication did not go both ways, because while L possessed a great amount of influence over their lives, they had no sway over his. They were not his equals and consequently they could not possibly be considered his friend either.

In contrast Kiyoshi possessed a great deal of influence over L, causing the usually unaffected detective to engage in heated arguments with him. Near wanted to believe that nothing was going on between the two other than an odd rivalry that leaned towards friendship some days and fighting the next. He wanted to believe that L was not letting something as trifling as emotions get the best of him and in effect jeopardizing their contest. And though Kiyoshi was a particularly heinous breed of mind-fuck – the likes of which Near had never had the pleasure of encountering before – he would hope that L was not letting someone like that walk all over him.

"So are you going to tell me what all these questions are about?" Mello turned around to face him.

Near nodded, thinking that he could not dawdle any further. He would simply come out and say it and hope for the best.

"I think there's a chance that Kiyoshi's sleeping with L."

Five seconds into it and Mello had remained mildly calm, but once his words sunk in Near watched as his jaw dropped and he gapped at him with that fishbowl expression.

"When you built your last model, did you take in too much paint fumes?" he asked, looking on in complete disbelief.

"I chose not to paint the last one," Near told him, very matter-of-fact. He had used magic markers.

"Jesus Christ, I don't care if you painted it or not -- you're calling L a faggot!"

Near had never said anything about sexual orientation; he had simply told him what he had heard.

"And I can't believe I listened to you!"

If Near were to judge how angry Mello currently was, he would say it was greater than that one time the blond had run through the front entrance-way and someone had accidentally slammed the door on his hair, but considerably less than when exam results came out.

"Where the hell did you hear this from?"

It wouldn't exactly hurt to tell him, as either way Mello would go in search of his own answers. He would hate to depend on him for anything, and Near had factored that stubborn personality into the equation when he had decided to approach Mello.

"Who said this?"

Knock. Knock.

Both boys turned to look at the door.

"Hey Mello, I'm coming in," Linda called and popped her head into the room. "L's calling for –" she stopped when she realized who else was in the room with Mello.

"Near? What're you guys doing? Having a party for 'most likely to succeed'?"

"Linda," Mello practically growled, "What were you about to say?"

"Oh, L's calling for you on the verandah." Then she turned to look at Near. "He's calling for you too."

"He wants to see both of us?" and the distress in Mello's voice could not be anymore apparent if he suddenly broke down in front of them and started to cry. "How did he put it? Did he sound angry?"

"Angry?" Linda giggled. "Don't tell me you did something that L's not going to like? I definitely want to hear this."

"No way, you blabber-mouth. You're just going to tell everyone."

"Fine. I'll go find out from Matt," she called as she ran out of the room.

"Ask him all you want, he doesn't know anything either," Mello shouted after her. "Nosy girl," he grumbled when he turned back around to look at Near. "And you're a hundred times worse.

"For your sake, you'd better pray that L doesn't find out about what you're calling him behind his back."

* * *

The first thing they saw when they arrived on the verandah was Kiyoshi seated next to L. With knife in one hand and an apple in the other, he was coolly slicing the fruit into wedges and slipping each piece into his mouth as the knife severed it from the core.

And for all the domesticity that such a scene should have evoked, there was something very disturbing and admittedly intimidating about the repetitive 'shck' sound that Kiyoshi made as he methodically sliced away at the fruit, lodging the knife deeply into the flesh of the apple and then carving upwards with two clean strokes.

As Near and Mello drew closer they heard him offer L a piece, but the detective, surprisingly, gave him a somewhat spooked look and then declined rather quickly, saying that it was too bitter for his taste. The brunette stared at him blandly, said nothing, and continued to eat.

Turning to them with what could be described as an air of relief, L pointed at the chairs across from him and Kiyoshi. "Please take a seat," he said and waited for them to do so before explaining why he had called them here.

"I've been talking to you both for the past few months, and while it's been helpful to a degree, it cannot give me an accurate picture of your abilities.

"Fortunately, Kiyoshi-kun," both Near and Mello looked at the brunette, "has proposed that I hold a small contest for you two." L tapped his finger against his bottom lip. "Though I would rather look at it as an interview. It is nothing drastic, but please answer my questions to the best of your abilities. There is no pressure here."

It could be that when L said "no pressure" they should take it at face value. But for the person chosen as the next L, he could just as easily fall into a false sense of security with that kind of thinking, and as a result, not take the appropriate measures to keep himself safe. There was no such thing as "no pressure" in L's line of work, so for them to take this lightly would be the first error they could make in this contest.

"I very rarely speak to those involved in my investigations. Usually I can study the crime-scene evidence and reach a conclusion in a short time. Most cases are that cut and dry -- however much the criminal attempts to cover it up.

"Since I don't interact my suspects and cannot ask them questions of my own choosing, I usually obtain interrogation videos from the police station where they are being detained and study those. My question to you is very simple – since I cannot ask them questions of my own choosing, what might be some signs that indicate they are lying?"

Mello straightened in his chair to show that he wanted to go first. It didn't seem like L favored a precise order, turning towards the blond to show that he was listening.

"There's the obvious one of avoiding eye contact, but there's other things like when a person's lying they tend to blink less than they normally do. They'll limit their hands gestures, and the few they make will be stiff and controlled. They'll also avoid pointing at the other person, and might even cross their arms over their chest to subconsciously make a barrier between themselves and their interrogator. Or they'll fidget with any nearby object, and if seated at a table, they'll place the object between themselves and the interrogator, again, as a sort of subconscious effort to put up a barrier and escape the person that's putting them in an uncomfortable position.

"It's not a textbook trick," Mello continued, "but some detectives will place a glass of water on the table before the suspect arrives and then as they question the person, they'll observe the amount he drinks. When people lie they tend to swallow, clear their throats, and lick their lips more often, so they'll subconsciously go for the water as it helps with all those."

When it was Near's turn, he made no outer effort like Mello to appear serious, still twirling a lock of hair between his fingers. "Liars," he started up rather boldly, "will expand their contradictions, so instead of saying 'didn't' they'll use 'did not' to come off as sincere. Qualifiers and modifiers like 'however,' 'sometimes,' and 'generally' will also show up a lot in their conversation because they feel a need to explain themselves more. They generally feel pressured and uncomfortable in silence, so liars like to hear themselves talk."

Kiyoshi had left the room halfway through Mello's answer, returning only now with a tray in his hands. Near had not looked in his direction when he made that statement, but he thought he didn't have to with such a convenient entrance.

"They won't put emphasis on pronouns and will drop them due to feelings of guilt. Also, if you change the subject, liars will more readily go along with you."

As Kiyoshi took his seat next to L, he cleared his throat, adding, "I read somewhere that toe-curling is also considered a sign of lying."

L turned to look at him. "Now you are just pointing fingers."

The brunette said nothing and instead set the tray down; there was a slice of cake on it, double-layered with whipped frosting in between, blueberries dotting the sides and a generous amount of strawberries heaped on top.

L looked down at it. "Your apology is duly accepted. By the way, where did you find this? The bakery that Roger frequents only changes their selection every Sunday; this was not on the menu."

"I made it," the brunette responded casually.

There was a short pause. "You can bake? …This is quite a surprise. Why did you not inform me earlier that you possessed such a skill? The hiring process would have been much quicker."

"I've never baked before," he told L. "This is just the result of me following the recipe to a T. Though I'm confident it turned out as it should. My Home Economics teacher said that my preciseness with measurements made the other students food taste like mud."

L touched his finger to his bottom lip, staring at the cake with fascination and possibly a bit of awe. "They do say that cooking is a science, so I suspect that you would be very good at it."

"Go ahead, I'll take over for you in the meanwhile," he encouraged, pouring L more tea and even handing him a fork.

"Since you are also a candidate," L's fork hovered over a particularly plump looking strawberry, "it would be wrong to not test you as well. Yes… I don't see any problems with this," he concluded and seemed to have also made up his mind on what side he wanted to start on. "And since this is your first ever cake, I should give it the proper reception it deserves. Do not worry, I will treat it very nicely."

This was such an obvious tactic, and L no doubt knew that once he gave Kiyoshi the opportunity to ask them questions, the brunette would attempt to show them up in front of him. It was so obvious what he was going to do and yet so effective at getting L to back off. Not only did it appeal to the side of the detective that was interested in seeing how they fared in competition, but it appealed to his stomach as well.

Kiyoshi was apparently an expert at handling L.

"Every case," the brunette started, "has a basic structure that's defined by a criminal perpetuating an action and the detective attempting to close that action. Studying that structure, it's evident that once the criminal is a repeat offender, he's also trapping the detective in a circle with him that continues as one side eludes and leaves behind evidence and the other side collects and analyzes that evidence to break the cycle. Since both sides are dependent on each other -- one to provide evidence and the other to acknowledge his crimes -- it goes without saying that when one makes a decision, it will greatly affect the other, and the outcome can be judged as a result."

"Near." The boy stopped playing with his hair when he heard his name called. "What am I referring to?" Kiyoshi asked, suddenly.

"Game theory," Near answered. "It's where a person's success depends on the choices of others, and visa versa."

"And an outcome if we were to apply it to this definition?" Raito glanced in Mello's direction.

"…zero-sum" the blond responded after a pause. "The philosophy is no two sides can win. One must lose in order for the other to triumph. If it's possible for both sides to benefit from a choice then that makes it non-zero-sum."

"So in accordance with these definitions, it's reasonable to say that for either party to win, whether it be the detective or the criminal, manipulating the other side to make a choice that will hurt their chances of success is the best course of action to take."

With guidelines to follow, this sounded like the beginnings of an application problem; and as Near had predicted, the brunette began to introduce them to the actual scenario at hand.

"Let's say that our detective and our criminal are faced with pursuing each other or retreating. There are obvious rewards for each choice, but the rewards are not made equal. Death will mean failure, but both detective and criminal value their reputations to chance it.

"Now for the first scenario: if neither chooses to pursue then they're assured to stay alive – a major plus. However, this result comes about at the expense of pride and reputation, an even greater loss.

"This case is an extremely volatile one where the more you participate, the likier you are to be killed. For the second scenario: since both parties will be taking the lead for their respective sides, if they choose to pursue then there's a good chance that they will both die. But as a result they have defended their pride.

"For the third scenario: if one pursues and the other decides against it, that results in the eventual capture and death for the chased, since to run means you are giving up the chance to learn about your enemy and counter-measure his attacks. In this case the pursuer reaps the full rewards of victory – he stays alive by killing his enemy and in effect defends and bolsters his pride."

"Now my question to you is out of these three scenarios, which would be the best choice, assuming that both criminal and detective would like to walk away with their lives and pride intact."

L opened his mouth to say something but Kiyoshi poured him more tea, his equivalent of "shut up and eat your cake."

"Wouldn't it be best to manipulate your opponent into a situation where he has no choice but to run? That way you can be the one to chase, and since there's an advantage to being the pursuer, you can kill your enemy and defend your pride. It should be scenario three," and though this was Mello's conclusion, he still had an unsure look to his face, his answer so obvious that he was hesitant to take it. But to him there was just no way the other choices were more acceptable.

Near wavered between Mello's answer and the first one. The third scenario was clearly the ideal here. "Since both detective and criminal are strictly competing, that is, one has to lose in order for the other to win, then the solution should be in accordance with zero-sum. Scenario three is the only answer that has one winner and one loser."

Near stared at Kiyoshi and then answered unexpectedly, "I choose scenario one."

L raised his hand halfway, as if he wanted to be included in the 'answering' fun, but Kiyoshi immediately slapped it down, shattering any hope of that happening.

"You're both wrong," the brunette pointed out casually, while totally ignoring L who was holding onto his mistreated hand and giving him a sulky look.

"To arrive at the right answer you have to keep in mind that your choices will manipulate the outcome for your enemy. Mello did that, however he didn't take into consideration that the other person has equal influence over your own choices or that both parties might suffer the same fate.

"For instance, when faced with options, a person will always pick the choice that is most beneficial to him or her. Since the two mentioned above are looking out for their best interests, their best interests would undoubtedly lead them to both pick scenario three, killing the enemy and defending your pride. However, scenario three only works when one person picks it – it's a disguised scenario two – so in selecting the best option they are in fact making the worse choice and setting themselves up for death.

"And as for you," the brunette turned to Near, "it was a good move to avoid scenario three. Even though it can be considered the best answer, it can be considered the worst as well. This makes it a contradiction, and contradictions should be avoided at all cost.

"However, while picking the first option will not lead to death, that in itself can't be considered a victory when you have fled. It is not much better than scenario three, because just as nothing is accomplished with three, so too is nothing accomplished with one.

"To sum it up," Raito made a motion with his hand, "there is no solution for this problem."

Well, they'd been made to look stupid, Near thought rather sedately, twirling a lock of hair around his finger and watching as Mello grinded his back teeth in frustration.

Sensing that the mood had gone sour, L tapped his finger against the table, bringing their attention back to him. "I think now would be a good time to evaluate yourselves and point out things that you may need to work on."

Unlike Kiyoshi, L seemed to be taking the straightforward approach to his inquiries -- whether to balance things out or he saw this as a good lead in, since Kiyoshi's last question had done an excellent job of pointing out their character flaws. Though Near sensed that he was also doing this to give them time to prepare for the next question that Kiyoshi would see fit to ask.

"I'm too emotional and quick to act," Mello blurted out, seeing it better to go first than second. For Kiyoshi's question he had gone directly for the choice that would enable him to take immediate action. It was a lack of confidence on his part that always caused him to leap forward like that. He felt that if he didn't take the initiative then he would have no advantage over his opponents at all.

Near was on the other spectrum of that extreme; his instincts had made him go for the answer that would take him out of harm's way. He was reasonably confident of his ability to make snap decisions, but sometimes that feelings transferred over into some areas as over-confidence. His problem was that he tended to fall back on that comfortable feeling because he was not used to putting much effort into his decisions. He supposed that this all had something to do with how easily things came to him, unlike Mello who was always struggling when it came to his decisions.

"I'm too slow to act and that also keeps me from seeing the whole picture," he admitted, seemingly more tolerable of his mistakes than the blond was for his.

L received their answers silently and then for some reason turned to the brunette beside him.

"What?"

"You must add something as well," L told him.

"About Near and Mello?"

L gave him a strange look. "No, about yourself. I did not invite you into this consultation so you could only make comments about others."

Offended was how Near would have described the expression the brunette currently wore, but then again there were better words like miffed too.

"Add something about yourself," Kiyoshi responded curtly.

"Are you forgetting that you are a candidate just as they are, and that as the person giving away his title, I have every right to inquire about your weaknesses." Then L added pretty underhandedly, "Though I cannot say that I am in the dark as to what they are."

"I have my shortcomings," Kiyoshi admitted, though a tad high-handed. "But what's most important is that my shortcomings won't come in between me and my duties.

"However, their deficiencies in personality," he made a gesture towards Mello and Near, "are things that can directly affect an investigation. To ask me the same question is unreasonable because they don't have the experience of working on a big case; they haven't been given the chance to analyze themselves in that context and resolve their tendencies to the best of their abilities. They still have a lot more growing to do as people, so you can't expect them to know any better."

As L continued to sip from his tea, Near noticed he was staring at the brunette rather crabbily.

"Somehow you have managed to provide an answer for everything _except _the question I asked you. It shows -- and please listen closely because I am providing you with an example that you can repeat after I ask the question again -- your evasive nature and how out of touch with reality you are when it comes to your own personality. If you had answered something along those line then that would have stopped me from bringing up your other faults, which include arrogance and your very bad habit of making yourself out to be the victim when things are not going your way."

L then took another sip from his tea, this one more controlled. "I also left out that you are mean."

Near sensed that an argument between the two was quickly forming. He had wished that they could hold off until him and Mello were done with them, or at least out of the room.

"It's better than being a big-mouth jerk that doesn't know when to shut up and can't understand that certain topics should be discussed behind a closed door. I might be mean to you, but it's always intentional and well-deserved," Kiyoshi said, done with ambiguity, "unlike how insensitive you can act towards me simply because you're too socially oblivious to know any better."

"You will take that back," L said, insulted.

"Well you need to learn how to speak to others without bossing them around every second."

This sounded like the continuation of an argument, probably one they'd started this morning and had prematurely dropped.

"Because this is a simple evaluation, it is impossible to fail at it, and yet here you are, proving yourself an exception to the rules yet again."

Kiyoshi glared at the detective, rose up from his seat and promptly left. L watched him go and then turned back around, stubborn. He had begun to tap a finger against his knee, the other not long in following so it sounded like a horse at trot. This went on for some time until he noticeably slumped to one side, then the other, then back again, as if all this shifting would help him think.

"I will be back," L told them suddenly as he stood and left to, Near suspected, apologize to the brunette or argue with him some more.

Near and Mello who had remained quiet throughout the scene finally turned to acknowledge the other, each hesitantly made eye contact and then just as hesitantly looked away because this situation was awkward enough without them adding to it.

"Will you at least hear me out now?"

"Don't talk to me," Mello quickly dismissed. "Things are bad enough without you and your confused crap adding to it." He crossed his arms and settled back into his chair, preparing to wait for L's return.

"You don't even have any proof," he criticized a second later, invalidating his own warning to Near to shut up. "Where did you hear this from anyway? I doubt even you could make something up like that, so who's spreading these stupid rumors."

Near gave him an assessing look, a quick up and down that made Mello's temper flare up again.

"Don't look at me like that and answer the question."

"It's Kiyoshi," he said after a pause.

"Him?" A strand of hair fell into his line of sight and he brushed it to the side. "Don't tell me you'd actually believe anything that guy has to say."

It's wasn't that Near believed, but he wanted to be certain. Mello was waiting for him to respond, but Near saw no reason he had to defend himself and gave the blond another one of those blatant assessing looks, longer this time, knowing how much he hated it but using it to provoke him nonetheless.

"I don't get you at all," Mello grumbled. "Why are you being so stubborn about this?" Then when he was not met with an answer, he cast his eyes sideways, pondering. "How sure are you, anyway?" he suddenly inquired.

Near shrugged, because that was essentially where he stood on the matter of proof.

Mello snorted at him dismissively, but despite his curt attitude towards him and a deep-seethed belief that L could do no wrong, Near sensed that the blond was starting to question the situation -- that indecisiveness causing him to glance over at him again and then lower his head in contemplation.

* * *

**A/n:** the definition list has returned – and it has brought friends. On another note, MGS4 has come out and all I have to say is that it is beyond cool.

**1.** Rosin is what violinists apply to their bows to ensure that it can effectively grip the strings and produce the desired sound. They can either come in stones or mounted in woodblocks. The dark stickier rosin will better grip the strings and therefore the player can produce a wider array of sound, so the more proficient players may use this type of rosin.

**2.** Rosary, which means "rose garden" in Latin, is both a devotional device (the beads) and a prayer. The prayer consists of the Lord's Prayer, ten Hail Marys, and one Glory Be to the Father. On the completion of each set or decade, the person must then meditate upon a Mystery. The beads are used so the person can keep track of their prayers and better concentrate while mediating; for instance, the small beads are used to count out the hail marys and the larger beads are where you meditate upon a Mystery.

**3.** The Mysteries as mentioned above are events in Christ's life, as well as his mother's, the Virgin Mary. They are separated into four categories: Joyful, Sorrowful, Glorious, and Luminous. For instance, the "Sorrowful" that Near alludes to are five instance in Christ's life that show his suffering: the Agony in the Garden symbolizes his sin; the Scourging on the Pillar, his mortification; the Crowning of the thorns, his contempt for the world; and the Carrying of the Cross, his patience. Near leaves out the Crucifixion, as this symbolizes salvation, and he believes that Mello, in his current state of mind, would only know how to identify with suffering without any escape in sight.

**4.** Großer Bruder (Grohser bruda) -- "big brother" Thanks to phini, teteiforever2002, and tsinogatna for correcting me on the german pronunciation and the word itself.

**5.** There are 23 "clinically practical" physical and verbal signs of mendacity (the physiatrist's term for lying) that a psychiatrist and neurologist by the name of Alan R. Hirsch defined; and which is used by the FBI and other policing organizations for interrogations. For Mello and Near's answers, I alluded to some from Dr. Hirsch's list, but for the rest I consulted other lists and took many liberties.

**6.** I strangely read somewhere the toe-curling is considered a sign of lying… I don't trust the source though, but it is interesting to think about, since in practically every scene that L is in we see him toe-curling away.

**7.** Game theory "attempts to mathematically capture behavior in _strategic situations_, in which an individual's success in making choices depends on the choices of others. While initially developed to analyze competitions in which one individual does better at another's expense (zero sum games), it has been expanded to treat a wide class of interactions." Basically it can be used to predict and explain behavior. The problem that I have Mello and Near attempt to solve is based on one of the games under this field and is called the "Prisoner's dilemma." The "Prisoner's dilemma" is considered "non-zero" sum, meaning that both can win or lose, while an example of a zero-sum game would Chess or Go.


	30. Stopped Time

"I don't believe it," Mello said and sounded like he was trying very hard at the moment to convince himself of the ridiculousness of this situation, and succeeding by sheer will alone. "It's impossible."

L having sex with someone? For all they knew he was asexual and not capable of feeling those things.

It would fit the image Mello had in his head of his mentor all these years: alone and indifferent to those around him, L seemed above silly distractions that others – including himself – had endlessly fallen victim to over the years. To think that L was also susceptible to such feelings, that he had wants like that… made Mello feel uncomfortable. It took away from the detective's image as untouchable, made him into a normal man, and Mello was not ready to see L in a different, more humanizing light.

Thus the idea of L having sex with someone – and a bastard like Kiyoshi at that – was deemed impossible to him. It was just… impossible.

"So why are you breaking into his room?" Near asked dryly beside him, curling a finger in his hair.

"To prove _you_ wrong," Mello replied defensively and the sound of the door unlocking punctuated his sentence. "If he's sleeping with him" and he highly doubted that "then we'll find evidence." Mello then opened the door and made a motion for Near to get in, enlightening him at the same time: "Don't think I'm doing your dirty work while you play with your toys a safe distance away. If I'm caught here" he promised, "then you're going down with me."

He made the gesture again. "Now hurry up – L's having breakfast right now, so we should have enough time, but I don't want to take that chance." When he saw that the white-haired boy was not doing as told, he shoved him inside. He'd physically dragged Near all the way over here during morning classes without a second thought, a little shove wasn't going to be a problem for him.

Once he walked in behind Near, Mello became intensely aware of his own body and the fact that he was currently standing in L's room -- a place that none of them had ever actually seen before.

Everyone knew that L stayed here whenever he came to visit, so by now it had been assumed that this had always been L's room, even when he was an orphan himself.

The casual way L dropped by their rooms never gave any of them the impression that he was a secretive person, but they all knew that his own room was well off-limits. That space was his and his alone, and he probably did not appreciate anyone intruding upon it, however non-threatening they may be.

L's will was the same as the Institution. It was the foundation of their existence here, infallible, unquestionable, rising above such things as right and wrong -- so to break into his room like this could very well be considered a form of blasphemy for any child that lived within these walls. Mello was not one to care about the unsaid rules at the Institution, but if he found nothing here today then he would find some way to make it up to L without revealing what had transpired. It was the least he could do.

Near had already begun to look around. He had noticed upon entering that the room smelled faintly of cologne, but as he neared the bed, that faint smell grew stronger, richer… Both of them knew L never wore cologne, but what was worse, Near had immediately recognized the scent, as he had been in the company of its owner long enough for it to become familiar.

Things were not exactly looking up, but they continued to search nonetheless. Near was currently on the last drawer of the bureau propped against the closet wall, his searching made effortless by the utter lack of clothes in them. Surprisingly, L was still living out of his luggage, but then again that was probably more comfortable for a person that travelled as widely as he did.

Done with the last drawer, Near made to close it, but heard something knock against the back. He assumed it was due to the drawer being old and having a tendency to stick—it was hardly worth his time to investigate…

But for some reason he reached behind and felt around the back anyway. Something cool brushed up against his fingers, and grabbing it, Near pulled it out into the open.

It was a… watch.

He'd didn't think L wore watches, but even if he did, why would he keep a broken one?

The glass was cracked and it was obvious from where the hands had stopped that the mechanism no longer worked. Sweeping his thumb over the face, the crack running through the center, he noted that the hands had stopped on eleven sharp. There was also a date feature below the fulcrum, the small square reading 1/1.

Despite the cracks, the watch looked new and expensive, so for it to break on the first day of the year seemed like a bad sign, Near thought, half-serious.

Looking it over, Near saw no reason to share this discovery with Mello and he lowered himself to the floor to put the watch back where he found it. However, a knock at the door interrupted him and he dropped the watch.

"He's already finished?" Exiting the bathroom Mello trotted past him, instantly heeding the knock, their designated signal that L had left the kitchen area.

Earlier, around the time Mello had gotten ahold of him, the blond had asked one of the boys he frequently played soccer with to act as look-out. It sounded like a euphemism coming from him, but _ask _was all Mello did.

As much as Mello was known to be a bully around the Institution, he also had a reputation for being strangely sincere. And as much as Wammy House frowned upon emotional honesty – as it discouraged them from becoming better liars and in effect less efficient copies of L – Mello had somehow managed to retain a small amount of his scruples since his arrival. Near suspected that this small amount, however, would be lost by the time they left the institute. He had in fact abandoned his long ago.

But for Mello to hold onto his values was not exactly a bad thing, not when it unconsciously made others feel that they could trust him. When he showed his emotions to those around him – not just the anger – it made him easier to accept, to empathize with. It was odd, but as much as he picked on the other children, he also had more friends than anyone else at the Institution.

But because Mello had a forceful personality, many of the children –who were also quite aggressive themselves – did not appreciate a peer trying to assert his will over their own. Everyone took it very seriously when Mello would decide to start a fight, but that only lasted as long as it took the blond to knock out whoever was pissing him off at the moment. Since Mello was indiscriminate with his terror, they all knew not to take it personally, which made it easier to get over when he started with one of them.

Near could not say the same for himself, as Mello personally had it out for him ever since the day they had been introduced.

"Did you find anything?" Mello had cracked the door open and was now peering out.

"No," he answered and waited for the blond to turn around.

"Then that settles it. I didn't find anything either. There was a bottle of lotion in the bathroom, but that's nothing to freak out over." Mello then said in an unexpectedly quiet voice, "Though I did find some bloody bandages in the bathroom and a bottle of tramadol in the cabinet. Do you think… L's injured?"

Near remained silent.

He had started to notice that whenever L stood, even if it was for a short time, he would imperceptibly lean towards his right, as if he was trying to spare his left leg the weight. Near had concluded after numerous instances of this odd slumping – even for him – that L had been injured in the left leg. How exactly it had happened was anyone's guess, but Near had a sinking feeling that it had something to do with Kira.

To think that this person could get close enough to L to inflict bodily harm on him, Near had to wonder what kind of person L had been chasing after for these two years. What kind of monster had he put away?

Brought back to the present by the sound of the door clicking shut again, Near watched as Mello headed to the other side of the room.

"To be safe let's use the window; I don't want to run into L in the hallway – I can't lie to him."

Pragmatic as that suggestion was, Near did not move an inch when Mello opened the window and started to climb out.

"Do you want to get caught?" he asked and then lowered himself back to the floor. "There's nothing in this room. We could search Kiyoshi's next, but I doubt he'll have anything either."

Mello's train of thought was understandable. He had broken into Kiyoshi's room before, and the fact that he had found no questionable items during that time meant either the brunette was good at hiding them away or there was nothing to hide. Whatever the case, they would not find anything in Kiyoshi's room. L, on the other hand, would not expect anyone to search through his things – the implicit censure awaiting any child reason enough to stay away – so there was a chance that he would see no reason to go all out in hiding any traces of his sex-life from this room.

But none of that really had anything to do with Near's inability to follow Mello out the window. If he had to explain his reasoning behind it in ten words or less, he would say that he was "attempting to avoid an untimely demise." Near was not the most athletic person. His daily activities included hours of sitting and possibly some spent lying down, followed by longer periods of more sitting. If he climbed out that window there was a good chance that he would fall off the roof and break his neck. He did not possess the same cat-like reflexes that enabled Mello to scale down the side of the orphanage unscathed every time he felt like sneaking into town.

"I won't push you off," Mello conceded innocently, misinterpreting the issue at hand. Then he changed his tune when he found that Near would not budge. "C'mon, L's going to be here any minute. I don't have a problem leaving you if you're going to be like this."

"You realize that this search means nothing," Near suddenly voiced.

"What the hell –" recognizing that he had lost his temper for a split second, Mello tried to rein it back in. "Why are you still going on about this?"

"Because I don't think it would matter even if we did find condoms or lube in this room," he told him bluntly. It could just as well mean L was sleeping with Minako. Near hated to say this, but unless they saw it for themselves, they would not be able to ascertain anything.

"Dammit," Mello cursed and no longer cared about losing his temper. He grabbed onto Near's shirt to pull him along, but froze when he heard the boards outside creaking, signaling that someone was walking down the hallway.

Changing course at the last second, he yanked Near towards the closet, the only place that L _hopefully _would have no business with, due to his clothes residing elsewhere. They wouldn't have time to escape through the window now, so that left them with no choice but to seek refuge -- a fate that Mello was none too happy about, even when Near made a comment that took into consideration their environment and he thought might lessen the stifling atmosphere as they crouched and waited in silence.

"I'll give you seven minutes of heaven," Mello responded in a threatening manner, turning his comment back on him and not appearing in the least to appreciate his attempt at talking to him, the creaking of his knuckles in the darkness further confirming this opinion.

* * *

Raito closed the door behind him quietly, but one glance towards the empty bed told him L had gone off to breakfast. He was disappointed that he couldn't be the one to wake the detective, as that usually had its perks, but maybe it was best to not distract himself this early in the morning. Moreover, since he was going into town to pick up a few things for Roger, and L was always bugging him about his purchases when he returned (why laundry detergent and no cake?), he had thought he would simply ask L what he wanted now to forgo having to tell him to "shut up" later.

And as Raito turned around to leave and do just that, a flicker of silver caught his attention. He stopped, his sight converging on the object of his interest like a hawk did with its prey. That curiosity of his was acting up again (the one that always got him in trouble), and so in an attempt to heed that self-warning, he turned towards the door.

But Raito had always known that once something caught his interest, it was nigh impossible for him to leave it alone. He supposed that curiosity and the desire to investigate were both inherent traits of any great detective; he also supposed that they were the same traits that put him in this mess with L in the first place.

Sighing, and unwilling to fight his nature, Raito found himself wondering over to bureau before he could stop himself. He bent down, tentatively picking up the object -- like that hesitation would redeem him of the act -- and recognition spread through him as the weight of it settled in his palm.

_This was… _his brow furrowed. _What was L doing with this?_

Before that thought could go anywhere, the door had suddenly opened.

Raito turned towards it on a reflex. L noticed him there, but he didn't seem to mind that he had come in without permission. That was, until he spotted what was in his hand, the lax expression tensing and going alert.

L made a beeline for him and Raito stiffened and felt his arms gravitate towards his body, his fingers tightening around the watch, but his body language unable to stop L from snatching it away -- and so defensively at that.

"I…" disquieted by the mood that L had brought with him into the room, Raito found his mouth opening and no sound coming out. He tried again, his eyes lowering. "I… thought you would have thrown this away…"

L said nothing and suddenly shoved it into his pocket, obviously disgruntled. "I gave you the key to my room because I did not think you would search through my things."

Raito raised his head, startled. "Of course I wouldn't," he denied.

"I have memorized all your past excuses, so there is a 100 percent chance that this new one will not work on me either."

Raito felt all the need to defend himself fall quickly away—L's oh so subtle way of putting things turning his mood. "Don't be a paranoid ass," he told him flatly. "Why would I search through your belongings? I only came in here to see whether you wanted anything from the store."

"Then why did I find you with this?" L accused. "Admit it; I have caught you with your hand in the cookie jar."

Raito sighed, thinking that L was more likely than him to be caught with his hand in a cookie jar. "It was on the floor when I got here," he explained. "Besides, if you didn't want me to find it, then hide it away properly," he retaliated.

"You are going to use that excuse – that it suddenly appeared before you." L stared at him blandly. "Then again, things do mysteriously materialize in front of you, like notebooks, shinigami, the occasional dead person…"

"Shut up, it's not an excuse!" Raito exploded, embarrassed that L was making fun of the way he acquired the deathnote and everything after that.

Meanwhile in the closet, Near and Mello were attentively listening to the argument, grateful that the two outside were so quick to blame each other when things went wrong that they couldn't even fathom another party responsible. It certainly shifted the blame away from them. But as to what the pair outside were arguing about, L especially with that last statement, they had no idea. The older man perhaps referring to an inside joke, but then again perhaps not – the painkillers in the bathroom did not necessarily have to belong to L, and tramadol was an opiate, weaker than morphine and less addictive, but you could never guess how these things affected some people.

Raito shook his head, annoyed, but still trying to regain his composure. "That's not even the point here," he said. "The point is…" for a second there he didn't even look like he knew what the point was either, "…you gave that watch to me for Christmas. Do I need an excuse to pick it up?"

"You are mistaken; this is not the same one," L said, huffy.

Raito rolled his eyes. The reason for L's sudden moodiness had nothing to do with a breach in privacy and everything to do with him coming across this watch. "Don't lie to me," he said and found himself calming down, for what reason he had no idea because L was being a total asshat about this. "You think I'd be able to forget. I'm only surprised that you kept it all this time without telling me." With the way things were after his incarceration, he would have thought L had immediately gotten rid of anything that reminded him of Raito.

He saw L touch a hand to the outside of his pocket. "It was a gift," he said, still moody. "I could not possibly throw it away, because it did not belong to me."

Then why hadn't he returned it if he felt the decision ultimately lay with him? All these months had passed with him even confessing his so-called love, and out of all that time, L couldn't sit him down and return the watch. To him it looked like L had absolutely no intention of giving it back. To him it looked like he was simply going to keep it and not tell him anything about it. Raito eyed him carefully.

Was it because the previous owner of the watch had been _Kira_?

If that were the case then L _really_ didn't want him to have anything to do with that part of himself. Even objects that the former might have possessed—they were totally out of the question for him. It didn't even matter that they were the same person, L had given that watch to Kira and with Kira it would stay, possibly as a symbol of his one failure in life, his ineptitude with people, his unrequited feelings, his hate for an enemy that had not died, but had only been reborn, one that he had to stare in the face everyday, reliving the triumphant smile of that cold January morning as he was shoved aside for the world.

By withholding that watch from him, L wanted to make a sharp distinction between the two. In his mind Raito didn't think L was treating them as separate people, all his barbs at him were proof of that, but at the same time L was making it clear which one he wanted to disappear, to be buried by the other. It was survival, Raito supposed. Kira and L were eternal enemies and L wanted to stand over Kira and know that he had defeated every lingering remnant of him. It was his vindication as L, the detective, and not as the man.

Like beasts fighting for the mountain, one had to be wiped out in order for the other to survive. That was simply how things went. It made him recall the last day of his time in Russia, when he had asked to keep the journal that belonged to his other self, the one that Kira had spent countless hours writing in for his sake, recording all his experiences, all his emotions, all his sadness and heartache for being captured, and then feeling that tremendous will to survive enveloping all those other emotions, Raito had not been able to part with it. He had always believed that the reason why L had not let him keep the journal in the end was because it posed a security risk, and that probably had something to do with it, but he couldn't dismiss the idea that L had burned the journal in front of him mainly to serve as a message:

_Change back into Kira and this is what happens to you…_

That watch (and possibly all the negative perceptions that went with it) belonged to Kira, and L was… in his own odd way… shielding him from that now, unwilling to let it tarnish the person he was becoming. L had named him Kiyoshi, after all. He could fling the irony in his face all he wanted, but Raito still felt that… L wanted him to have a new start, to be as pure-hearted a person as the name that he'd been given. Perhaps because to be this pure person would make it easier for him to get walked all over, but Raito could not deny that there was kindness in that name too. And even though he could not acknowledge L's feelings, he could acknowledge his kindness.

But L not wanting him to have the watch at this point was only going to backfire in his face, since it only made Raito want it even more. The detective should know how he worked by now, and indeed, L didn't even seem surprised when Raito stepped into his personal space and reached into his jeans.

Raito fished the watch out of his pocket and gazed down at it, noting the formidable crack at the center and how it had deformed the twelve at the top, so the two was blurred out and only the one remained, and for some reason emotion stirred within him, like the contents at the bottom of a glass that had settled with time were swirling back up again.

"So this must be the exact moment that Watari took me in," Raito commented wistfully as he caressed his thumb down the middle, distracted. He could feel L's gaze on him, silent but intense nonetheless, no doubt troubled that he was remarking on such a thing so casually. But how else was he supposed to bring it up? L was the only person that knew, but ironically the last person that he should have this conversation with. "I hadn't realized I'd broken it," he said, and maybe somewhere deep down, he was only partially referring to the watch.

"_Raito…"_ L had that tone of voice that was supposed to be warning, but turned out more forlorn.

_Raito?_ The inhabitants of the closet looked to each other. 'Was that his real name?' Near thought. It didn't sound like any Japanese name he'd ever heard before. And the pronunciation… wouldn't that be _Light _in English? Hmm, what a pretentious sounding name. Fit him perfectly.

As if in a trance, Raito continued to stare at the watch, morbidly fascinated with this thing that had once adorned the wrist of a so-called mass-murderer. He couldn't say he was appalled by his behavior. It was only natural to sympathize with yourself, to want to know more about the person that had been in your shoes, living your life. And Raito did want to know everything there was to know about his past self. He was hopelessly captivated by the fact that he was Kira and he had been a force of justice. Those thoughts felt surreal to him sometimes, but he was past the point of questioning and at the stage where he wanted to identify with his past self. Certainly they both had the same ideological standpoints, but to the him that was standing here, he wanted something that also existed in the present. Something tangible, that he could see with his own two eyes, that he could touch with his own two hands…

This watch was that for him. It was the physical connection that he had yearned for: cold, hard, and yet strangely fragile -- perfectly reflecting all the crushed hopes and dreams of his other self in the fraction of the face. This was his connection to Kira, and however simple and irrational it may be…

He did not want to part from it.

"I think… I want this. Let me have it, okay."

L gave him a strange look. "But it's broken."

Raito raised an eyebrow, amused that L had the nerve to say that to him when he'd been holding onto said _broken_ watch for almost half a year because of simple attachment. "So? I still want it."

"I could have it fixed," L offered, but not out of any kindness, probably wanting to go over it with a fine-tooth comb before giving it back, though Raito would rather not let it bother him--L could do whatever he wanted, that wouldn't stop Raito from being himself either.

"No… I think I like it just the way it is," Raito answered, deliberately looking for trouble. He clicked the watch into place on his wrist, admiring the sable black of the interior and how even the broken glass had not diminished its shine. "You have good taste, by the way."

He glanced at L, who initially appeared unsure as to how to react to his sudden compliment, but quickly found his footing, and in more ways than one as he would be demonstrating a minute from now. "Yes," he agreed shamelessly, locking eyes with him. "I really do…"

Raito felt his mouth twitch, but stopped himself from encouraging L anymore. He should have left half an hour ago to do the shopping, so to be further sidetracked like this would be irresponsible—he really should be leaving now. "So is there anything you want?" Raito asked, changing the subject, however, as he was about to step forward, L's leg suddenly shot out, his foot connecting with the adjacent wall solidly and at the same time blocking his path to the door.

"Want?" L leaned into that leg, determined to not let him leave without the mandatory harassment.

It certainly didn't take long for him to return to his charming self, Raito thought sarcastically as he glanced down at the discourteous appendage and then up at its even more discourteous owner."Roger needs help with grocery shopping," he said by way of explanation. There were twenty something growing children in this orphanage and all of them needed to be fed on a regular basis -- or so he was told.

After L watched him for a bit, he nodded and then removed his foot, appearing more capable of handling his attitude than the many other times he had been wrong-footed. Maybe he was finally beginning to listen to Raito and act more like an adult. But then again maybe he was jumping to conclusions, Raito thought as he took a step towards the door and L's other leg suddenly shot forward this time, connecting with the wall and barring his path yet again.

"You get off on this, don't you?" he blandly commented, as getting in his way seemed to be one of detective's hobbies, and in response L smiled that cheeky little smile at him that drove him up the wall as much as it did into the nearest bed.

"Raito-kun must pay the toll or else I cannot allow him to pass."

Smirking at his so-called predicament, Raito touched a hand to L's forearm and began to stroke the skin under the thin material of his sleeve. "I don't remember there being such a rule for this door."

"That is because it was only implemented a minute ago," L explained and moved closer. "But a law is a law; do not break laws, Raito-kun, or else I will be forced to come after you."

Near could not say he liked where this conversation was going, and from the expression worn by the person next to him, neither did Mello.

The detective shuffled closer, feigning coyness and offering his cheek in order for him to get the hint; and when Raito, still smirking, leaned forward to pay the toll, L slyly turned his head at that exact moment--the kiss consequently ending up on his mouth and giving L the excuse to French him.

Raito, lingering there for a second longer than he should have, slipped his arms around L's neck and then let them hang from his shoulders when he was satisfied. "Does this mean I have free admission into here later?" he asked playfully, and leaning into L's chest he touched a finger to his chin, gently tipping it back and beginning to lay kisses on his throat.

L made a thoughtful noise bordering on content, his fingers now combing through the silk soft strands at the base of Raito's nape. "A kiss is a kiss," he answered. "It can only guarantee you one passing. Anything more and I would have to ask for a higher fee."

Intrigued, Raito raised his head from where it had been. "So would sex fulfill this _higher _fee requirement?"

L looked at the ceiling pensively, but from the way his hand was roaming around in the back of his shirt, Raito could tell nothing intellectual was going through his head at the moment. "Sex will guarantee you an open border day. However those privileges will only last until midnight that day, meaning that even if we were to finish copulating at 11:59 pm, once the clock strikes 12, you must renew your contract or I cannot let you pass."

Both Near and Mello froze as they heard their undisputable proof, and straight from L of all people.

"That's really convenient for you," Raito said around a grin, as the detective looked far too serious for him not to.

"All my rules are," L admitted and began to pull him away from the door by the waist. "Unless I benefit, I see no reason to have them at all."

Near heard Kiyoshi laugh and almost simultaneously gasp at what he supposed would be L's doing; everything going silent on the other side of the door except for a constant rustling sound and interspersed chuckling that was mostly coming from the brunette, but which L contributed to with his distinctively low murmur of a voice.

"Don't bite…"

"But what about -- here?"

"Not there either."

"So then… _here_?"

Near heard the brunette let out an inelegant laugh (probably a reaction to the biting) and Near could not help but stare at the closet door in distaste. In that short amount of time he had actually found himself missing the stupid arguments that both men could fall into at the drop of a hat -- at least they spared him and anyone else in the vicinity from listening to these two flirting and giggling over each other. Even the death march across the roof would have been preferable to this.

Raito, roughly pulling up against L by the belt-loops, finally got the occupied detective to stop biting along his shoulder and face him, those dark eyes catching sight of his hands as they roved upwards and began to remove him of his white t-shirt, their practiced motions already relegating it to the floor behind them and unzipping his jeans.

Not one to fall behind, and with his own plans in mind, L drove Raito back into the bathroom and pushed him down on the counter, forestalling his progress and also sending everything breakable to the floor.

Near heard glass shattering: the two outside undoubtedly crashing about like a bull in a china shop. No wonder L's room looked the way it did. If this was a daily occurrence then Near was only surprised that no one had gotten hurt yet. Though now that he thought about it, maybe this was the reason for L's leg injury… Well whatever the case may be, it did not change the fact that by the sounds of it, these two were clearly out of control.

When Raito tried to sit up, L shoved him down again, and in response the brunette shoved him right back and harder, a reaction that would have made anyone lose their nerve to continue, but only spurred L on.

Grabbing him by the leg, L pulled him to the edge of the counter and flush against his chest, his mouth there to meet him and tongue already wanting inside. Raito tilted his head to the side and at the same time took hold of the back of L's head, kissing him hard while L yanked his jeans off in jerky movements, his motions growing more and more aggressive as he pulled the waist down past Raito's knees, the always close fit making it so L was tussling with it to the end and shifting him around against the mirror.

With Raito's pants and underwear now on the floor, the detective riffled through the cabinet, searching for the lotion and discovering it close to empty when he picked it up. But not one to let that stop him, L poured the rest out into his hand, and pressing two fingers inside, he began to work them back and forth through the ring of muscle: slowly, firmly, and beyond meticulous. That touch gradually spreading Raito and causing his breath to hitch every so often.

"I hope I'm not hurting you," L told him, suddenly diverting all the energy in the room with that serious face of his. "I can always use my tongue to loosen you up fur--"

"It's okay," Raito interrupted with a strained voice, though the reason behind it had nothing to do with pain and more to do with L and his kinks.

"It's no trouble at all," L insisted and even started to descend. But Raito, startled, grabbed him by the head before he could try anything funny. It wasn't that Raito was averse to oral. On the contrary, he was usually the one eagerly pushing L down there. The trouble with today, however, was their location: they weren't above the library, fooling around in L's office where the walls were all sound-proof.

Anything besides oral sex and Raito was confident he would be able to manage his voice, but if L started to suck him off here—and with that ungodly mouth of his—then he was positive it would not take long for everyone in the house to realize what he and L were up to.

Plus he wouldn't be able to make it out of here the most cognizant human being if he let L do as he pleased. And since he had errands to run, having L do that to him and unable to crash on his bed afterwards was going to be pure torture.

"I'd rather not," Raito refused.

"But I really do insist."

"What about 'I'd rather not' don't you understand?"

The smile that followed that sharp remark made one of the corners of L's mouth stretch deviously upward, much more than what he would have guessed a leer from L would look like. It was downright creepy and yet Raito found his breath quickening.

"When you take that stubborn tone with me, I find myself not wanting to give you what you want."

Raito lowered his eyes and smiled coyly, and then suddenly plowed his foot into L's midsection and sent him back peddling out of the bathroom with the momentum. "That's funny, because I feel exactly the same way," he stated as he slid off the counter, strolled out of the bathroom and jumped L without warning.

Both occupants of the closet heard a loud thud right outside the door and Mello inhaled in surprise at the sudden proximity.

Righting himself on top of L, Raito smirked down at the detective, ready to claim his prize. L, however, wasn't responding to any of his advance as usual and actually appeared distracted; he was in fact glancing around the room.

"Raito-kun… did you hear that?"

Mello gave him a wide-eyed look and Near could not help but do the same: how in the world was L able to pick up on something so small?

"Hear what?" Raito asked and joined him in searching around the room.

"I swore I heard a voice…"

Both Mello and Near froze, and as an afterthought, Near placed his hand over Mello's mouth. Surprisingly, the blond did not push his hand away and actually covered it with his own, pressing it down as hard as he could to hold in whatever panicked sound wanted to come out.

"I doubt it was anything," Raito said and leaned forward on the arms braced against L's chest, bringing himself as close as possible to serve as a reminder. "Now can you please return your attention back to me?"

L's head rolled back to face front, those dark eyes following suit.

"There is not a moment that passes by that you do not occupy my thoughts."

Raito chuckled, thinking that L was the only human on the planet that could say such sappy things and actually expect them to work. "I doubt that applies to anything above my neck," Raito said and shifted backwards to demonstrate, feeling L go stiff as his erection pressed up against the inside of his thigh.

"Well," L said, voice suddenly very hoarse, "I cannot deny that Raito-kun's ass is much more forgiving than the person it is attached to."

"I plan to hold you to those words," Raito cautioned.

"Then please do your worse."

Raito smirked at him in challenge, "Don't say I didn't warn you," and didn't even give L the chance to take another breath before he grabbed his member, rubbing the tip against his entrance and at the same time beginning to press down on it in increments.

For good measure Raito slapped a hand over L's mouth—a necessity if they were going to remain undiscovered—and pushed down on the final inch, enjoying the way L involuntarily pounded his hand against the floor, as if to call for a time out.

He settled himself on top of L again—no longer partial to hover and craving more of the control he could gain from that position—and the stretch as he did so went further than what he was comfortable with. A throbbing ache near his tailbone made him swivel his hips and grind down on L in an effort to ease that discomfort, but his movements only spread that feeling further along the cleft of his ass.

Well, anal sex was a lot of trial and error, but he couldn't say the shallow pain was a totally unwelcomed sensation. It would surely give him something to focus on when they started and keep him levelheaded throughout, or enough to walk out of here when they were finished.

It was too much, however, to ask the same of the person under him, as L was already gone on the feeling of having his dick in all the way. He was struggling under the hand clamped over his mouth, those muffled groans that Raito was so fond of escaping through every so often as he continued to adjust himself on L. But at the moment Raito cared little if the person under him was equally adjusted and began to move, rocking back and forth, gently at first, but his movements acquiring a degree of force as he rode him, not much faster, but definitely harder.

"Mmph!" L swallowed thickly, his breath coming out hot and moist against the palm clamped over his mouth, and hands in the middle of navigating his body--between his legs, up his waist, and then back down to clutch his hips when Raito began to move faster, the detective attempting to control some of that ride. Both of his hands faltered there and one transferred to the hand over his mouth, gripping his wrist in a bruising hold and peeling that hand away so he could speak.

"Not so fast… I am already—" startled by pleasure, L suddenly groaned and fell back as Raito unsympathetically increased his pace, working him so hard that he could not even start to catch his breath, Raito's relentless forward motions pushing against his diaphragm and trapping any air in his lungs that he could use.

L was positive that he was going to asphyxiate if he wasn't given the chance to breathe in the next minute, but his body wouldn't allow him to stop, shamelessly demanding death if it meant he could come; and to not be allowed to when he was so fiercely hard, L was certain it would feel the same.

"Raito… oh god…" L moaned and realized belatedly that using those two utterances in the same sentence was just going to encourage the person above him; that messiah complex of his tied to his sexual gratification as deeply as it was to his pride. Most of the time L was convinced that they were one and the same.

So he had no one to blame (and thank) but himself when Raito shoved his hips down on his length without mercy and got him to come in two second flat. L was reacquainted with Raito's hand again long enough for him to stifle any shout and affectionate words that always happened to fall out of his mouth at this time, his own mental release as it were, which was always worse than the physical one.

He felt Raito touching himself soon afterward, and wanting forever to finish him with his mouth L tried to overturn the brunette onto his back, but Raito didn't appear to want to hand over control today, and lodging his forearm under his neck to keep L in place, he continued to pleasure himself, completely unremorseful for denying L as he finally shuddered and finished into the shirt that the detective had forgotten to take off him.

Resting on him for a bit, Raito sat up slowly and shook the hair out of his face. "Fun?" he murmured as he slid off L and knelt over his torso.

"Too much fun," L breathed out heavily and remained lying down, his arms somewhere above his head. "Fortunately I am not a virgin, because if I were that would have ruined me for the rest of my life."

"Then that just means I have something to work towards," Raito retorted and rose to his feet, though a tad unsteadily, his hand pressing against the inside of his leg and feeling wetness. "But it doesn't look like I was as fortunate as you this time. I'm actually feeling a little ruined—give me a hand, would you?"

"Only a hand? If Raito-kun demanded it, I would gladly give him both. I would also give him my balanced but at times misrepresented opinions, my boyhood heart, and possibly a foot."

Raito stared at him for a while before indifferently turning away and walking towards the bathroom.

"Actually—I change my mind. Just stay right there and don't come near me for the rest of the day."

"And as a fellow man," L called behind him, "Raito-kun should know that the harder he resists me, the more I will chase after him."

"So? I'm not running anywhere," Raito tossed out and the shirt sliding off his back was the last thing L saw before he disappeared behind the bathroom door.

"And that may be my problem," L said to himself as he heard the shower start.

He acknowledged that what he was doing with Raito was wrong in so many ways for so many reasons. But there was something to be said about not taking yourself too seriously and he was starting to see a sort of sick humor in his predicament

He should have been horrified at how easy it was to carry on these flings with Raito, more to the point, the casualness of it all seemed so very wrong. He knew that, he knew what he was doing was wrong, but that knowledge did not stop him from wanting this person with everything he had.

It also did not help that the object of his desire was being sweeter to him than usual. L had his suspicions, as Raito was only this nice when he wanted something. But L would not let that ruin his downtime and he certainly would not let it stop him from milking this situation for everything it was worth. Not when he felt perfectly secure in his ability to tell Raito "no" when it mattered.

"Do you have anything I could borrow?" he heard before Raito exited the bathroom, his shirt laying ruined on the tile floor the cause for his sudden interest in the detective's clothing.

L rolled to the side to catch a glimpse of Raito as the brunette bent down next to his luggage. "Check the bottom," he said and again made no moves to sit up.

Raito dug around until he found what L had been referring to, a few long-sleeved button-ups that he recognized as the dress shirts L had worn during their visits to Lourdes Cathedral. They were all starched and as white as if none had ever been run through a wash cycle, and in fact, Raito found two still folded neatly in store tissue paper. He recalled when Watari had brought them to the room and how there had been five to the set, but now there was one missing and he assumed it was from that day.

Slipping one of the shirts on, Raito buttoned it up as he walked back the way he came, nudging L's head with his foot in passing. "Do you want to come into town with me?" he asked and thought it would be good to have an extra pair of helping hands, no matter how useless they would turn out to be.

L finally sat up, but he didn't make any additional moves other than rotating his neck this way and that, the joints popping loudly and L rubbing that spot. He eventually got to his feet, adjusting his jeans back on his hips and zipping them up as he tottered over to his bed.

By all that Raito assumed his answer was an emphatic "no", but if there were any doubts left, L then rolled onto his side, nestled into the mattress, and yawned.

"Can you bring back a box of chocolates? I have a sudden craving for them, especially the ones with the praline and caramel fillings. That would be nice," L drawled with his eyes closed, looking like he was ready to doze off. Raito knew L wasn't the type to take enjoyment from sleep, only resting the barest minimum of hours required for him to properly function, but that attitude didn't seem to apply to all those post-coital naps that the detective was very fond of taking.

"Is something wrong?" L asked, peeking an eye open when he did not move.

"No," he answered simply, though he wasn't so sure now.

"Then go get me my chocolate," L said and suddenly slapped him in the ass, which startled Raito to the point of him jumping a bit. He grimaced at that reaction and then turned to stare at the detective as he nestled back into his bed, looking suddenly very pleased with himself.

"Also, do not forget to bring the tea-tray when you return—you are the light of my lif—"

The door slamming startled Near and Mello, but they couldn't say it was unexpected. Actually what surprised them was what followed in the silence of Kiyoshi's departure: L chuckling lowly, sounding rather pleased with himself for causing that reaction out of the brunette.

Well, L seemed to be enjoying himself, too bad he and Mello could not say the same about their experience here. Both had gone a shade paler since things had started, and by the end of it, Near had all but thanked god that he didn't have visuals to go with the audio, because even that alone was making it difficult to not come out of the closet—this was no time for jokes—and take a flying leap out the nearest window from sheer embarrassment. This was exactly what Near had wanted to avoid when he had gone to Mello, hoping that he would take care of the spying for him, or something along these lines anyway.

It wasn't like Near could not understand L having a sex life, but when that sex life started interfering with their competition what was he supposed to do? L should know better than this. But then again Near could not underestimate the sexual drive of any adult. Sex made them do stupid things and L was apparently not exempt from the above category.

Staring at the person across from him, Near could only hope that if his brain was to ever relinquish control of itself over to his penis that someone benevolent would step in and just as benevolently put him out of his misery. Mello noticed his staring and began to nod towards the door, signaling that he wanted to leave. But Near shook his head in reply. They couldn't chance it, not when L was like a Doberman on caffeine. He would hear them as soon as they opened the door, much less started to stand. Things were quiet outside, but that didn't mean L had fallen asleep.

Mello pointed at the door again, this time more forcefully, the blond still several shades of white and carrying with him a desire to leave that rivaled logic. Well, Mello had always been closer to L than he had, so he was obviously going to take this much harder.

Near shook his head again, hoping that Mello would calm down, but the blond was already standing within the cramped darkness, pressing his hand to the closet door and leaning more of his weight into his fingertips as the seconds went by.

Near was certain that any second now, L would awaken to see both of them trying to sneak out of his closet. And Near was also equally certain that when L caught them in the closet, he would not buy the excuse that they were in here searching for the boogey-man, ready to bring him to justice. Though he might give them points for trying.

The closet door didn't creak when it opened and Mello slipped out rather soundlessly, L yet to stir. Near stood as well and exited, but to his amazement L was still deep in sleep, the soft breathing sounds coming from his side of the room proof of that. The detective had his back to them, and seeing his chance, Near turned to leave and unintentionally caught Mello glancing over at L, the blond suddenly going red in the face and turning away just as quickly.

**"…"**

Near fixed the back of Mello's head with a searching gaze. L was sleeping without a shirt, but that wasn't anything to be embarrassed about. Everyone in this room was male and Near could hardly call the person in front of him modest, not when Mello had once jumped up on the railing overlooking the staircase and walked the entire length of it in only a towel simply on a dare. Even when everyone downstairs had been able to see right up said towel, Mello had only laughed and continued.

So if it wasn't modesty that made Mello blush now, then what exactly was it? Near thought about it and then quickly sidestepped that question like he did with many things concerning the blond. That was only going to make his life more complicated than it should be.

As Near stepped out of L's room, he noticed that Matt was leaning up against the wall two doors down from them and appearing to have taken over watchman duties from the previous lookout. Obviously Mello was still keeping him out of the loop, but for the redhead that apparently hadn't been enough to kill his interest in the matter. If anything, it had probably made it worse.

Mello was not one to keep secrets from Matt. Within reason, the redhead most likely knew everything there was to know about him and visa versa. So for Mello to remain tight-lipped, there had to be a significant reason behind it; and by the uncharacteristic gravity of his face, Matt was here to find out.

Though his expression quickly changed into concern and a bit of confusion when Mello came closer and he noticed how pale the blond looked. He opened his mouth to remark on this, but Matt was again left bewildered as Mello walked right up to him and then right into his arms.

"I just don't get it," Mello suddenly confessed and at the same time was gripping him by the material of his shirtsleeve, his knuckles white as paper.

Matt didn't get it either, but he thought that was only natural since he hadn't been in on it to begin with. "Mello?"

"It's worse than I thought," Mello continued to lament whilst scaring the bejebus out of Matt, who was not used to hearing the blond carry on like this. "It's… just not fair."

_Huh?!_ Matt turned to look to Near for an explanation, but the white-haired boy was already rounding the corner, appearing deep in thought. His attention was brought back to Mello when he began to push away, and it stayed with him as he started off in the other direction to, Matt assumed, sort out his head.

Clearly something had happened in L's room; yet no one was making any moves to fill him in.

What the hell was going on?

Helplessly, Matt started to follow after Mello, but knowing that he could get no answers from the blond, he turned around and went the other way.

Luckily for him Near was as slow as ever, so he caught up to him in no time, the white-haired boy just about to the open the door to his room when he arrived.

"Hey Near, can I ask you a question?" he called out, and to his annoyance that didn't even stop the white-haired boy from going for his door.

This guy was so unsociable.

Though it wasn't like he could talk.

Seeing that Near had no intention of giving him the time of day, Matt grabbed the handle and pulled the door close right in his face. "I said 'can I ask you a question?'" he repeated.

Near stared at the closed door and then coldly turned towards him. "You can ask, but it doesn't mean I'll answer."

Fortunately for everyone concerned, Matt was blessed with an indifference that could rival the person across from him. That meant that unlike Mello, who would have cursed Near six ways to Sunday by now, he couldn't give a rat's ass about anything Near said to him, even if he tried.

"That's okay," Matt responded. "It has nothing to do with you anyway. All I want to know is what has Mello so freaked out."

Near gave him a blank look. "Why don't you go ask him yourself?"

"He won't tell me."

"Then I have nothing to say either."

Near went to go open his door, but Matt pulled it close again.

"Why? It's a simple question."

"Simple enough that I still don't have your answer," Near retorted.

Matt looked at Near carefully. What was up with all the attitude he was giving him? Near didn't usually bug him, but today was fast becoming the exception.

"Hey Near," Matt said and didn't even try to stop the other boy from reaching for the door handle again, "I don't want to do this because it's really none of my business, but if you don't tell me what's going on, I'll tell Mello you have a crush on him."

Near's hand stopped in front of the doorknob.

"Then I'll tell him the same about you."

Matt scratched behind his head and saw no way around this. "I uh already…kind of beat you to it." The first time Matt had seen Mello, he had jumped to the conclusion that the blond was a girl. He wasn't a very social person, but even at a young age Matt had always made an exception for girls. It was natural for him, he supposed, since he had never joined the other boys in recess—sports was never his thing—and so when the caretaker went to supervise the boys and girls outside, that had left young Matt in a room full of older girls who were considerate enough to include him in their space, even if it was to silently play his gameboy. It was probably the reason why Matt developed crushes on girls so easily and at an age where that kind of thinking was unpopular.

So after seeing Mello once and thinking that the blond was pretty in an odd way (because that was usually how it started with him), he had stolen something off the blond in order to get "her" attention. Then when Mello had come after him, he'd taken that time to introduce himself and blurt out that he had a crush on what he had deemed a girl with a really bad case of tomboy.

What young Matt didn't know at the time was he had just inadvertently picked a fight with the wrong person. And so several punches to the face later, Mello had enlightened him to the fact that he was indeed a boy, even lifting his shirt to demonstrate. Then after everything had sunk in, the blond had turned around and laughed at him in that mean way he had, even calling him a dork while he was at it and never thinking to spare his feelings for one moment.

To this day Matt was still uncertain as to why he and Mello were best friends. Any normal person would have avoided him after something like that, but he supposed after beating him within an inch of his young life, Mello had called things even.

Matt, on the other hand, had had a harder time getting over said incident, even trying to avoid Mello for a time; but he'd had to call that quits after a few run-ins with the blond and the realization that he wasn't so bad, even strangely friendly. It also didn't hurt that Mello had a thing for First-person shooters.

However, that still didn't explain why they had grown so close in two years—Matt hoped it had something to do with Mello maybe liking him back, but he dared not try to confess again because this time ignorance wouldn't be there to save him if things back-fired.

"He beat me up when I told him," Matt said curtly, and didn't think that was a consequence solely exclusive to redheads. He was confident Mello would sucker-punch any boy (and sadly any girl) that challenged his position on top of the Wammy House food chain, i.e. insulting his masculinity by having a crush on him. Near definitely would be no exception to this rule if Mello found out.

Then to drive the point home. "You see this tooth," Matt pointed at the spot where a permanent second-molar had taken up residence after its predecessor had the unfortunate luck of meeting Mello's fist before its time could come, "he knocked it out when he punched me."

Near stared at the other boy and then thought about whether he wanted to have Mello banging on his door early tomorrow morning with the intention of knocking his teeth out.

He didn't have to think too hard.

"L's sleeping with Kiyoshi--see you around," Near turned to open his door and Matt pulled it close again.

"Wait, what? L's doing_ what_?"

"That's what it's about--later."

"How the hell do you– _ewwww_," Matt said as everything dawned on him. "They were getting it on while you guys were in there?"

Near stared back at him indifferently, but at the same time with an expression that looked like it had been made to witness everything there was on this planet.

Even their mentor getting busy with another guy.

Oh, and not just any guy, but specifically the one with the IQ that was just plain unfair and a dislike for cute orphans. He probably kicked puppies too. Good going, L.

"Wait a minute, if he's sleeping with him, then doesn't that mean everyone here will eventually get the short end of the stick?" Matt couldn't care less about becoming the next L, but that was Mello's life goal. Take that away from him and he didn't know what the blond would do. Even coming out of that room, he had looked close to tears, and Mello wasn't that emotional. Maybe he lost his temper sometimes and hit people when he shouldn't, but he didn't cry, or not where anyone could see him anyway.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Near said as he stepped into his room, the door swinging shut behind him and right in Matt's face.

"Give me a warning next time," Matt muttered at the other boy's door and turned away to head in the direction of the stairs. He wanted to go see Mello, but he doubted the blond would appreciate anyone trying to comfort him at the moment, especially when that comfort was coming from someone who royally sucked at that kind of thing.

Sighing, Matt continued on down the hallway towards the stairs. Class was probably still in session. It wasn't like attendance was mandatory, but when there was nothing better to do, he should at least attend sometimes…

* * *

**A/n:** Someone a few chapters back asked me why everyone at Wammy House would know how to speak Japanese. I thought that since Japan was in the news a lot because of the Kira case and L was working on it, all the children would want to learn Japanese in order to keep up with the case in its original language. That also explains the reason why they can all understand Misa.


	31. Resumed

The next morning Roger had approached (cornered) L in the kitchen and asked him to oversee the eight o'clock class, and because Raito (his official scapegoat) wasn't conveniently standing next to him at the time, he'd had to concede to the "request." He wasn't particularly fond of spending time in the classroom but it did give him the chance to study his prodigies in their natural environment. Since his arrival, he had watched over the children a number of times, so his presence amongst them was not out of the ordinary. They went about their business just the same.

However, upon his arrival at the classroom that morning, the loud chattering (that he had been able to hear all the way at the end of the hall) came to an abrupt end. L could not say he had ever experienced this phenomenon from any of the children before—they were all such a talkative bunch, and he had felt that that would never change simply on account of him being there.

Feeling every gaze turn his way—some curious, some hostile, but all intently staring at him—L scratched his head in bewilderment.

_What exactly was going on here?_

One of the children stood up, a skinny boy with glasses and mop hair. L heard him mumble something to his table before he marched up to the detective and said in a voice wanting to be taken seriously, but which was rather difficult for L to do since said boy had to look directly up to speak to him, "Is it true? If it is then that means you're a traitor."

L pointed at himself upon hearing the word "traitor," making certain that it was being applied to him in the sense that he thought.

The boy nodded his head, looking both authoritative and disappointed at the same time. "So it is true?"

L shrugged. "I have yet to hear the charge. Are you practicing for a future career in the judicial system—your vague accusations and strong appeal to the audience are both essential tools for any lawyer. I daresay that you are well on your way to defending criminals in a court of law."

The children all looked to each other, confused as to why the detective was still playing dumb.

The boy with glasses shuffled nervously, like he didn't know what to do next, so another child came forward. She had dark hair and was of even shorter stature than the boy that came before her. "We might as well just say it," she urged the class on, but when no one jumped at the opportunity to inform the detective of his misdeed—all waiting for someone else to speak the embarrassing truth—she sighed and then blurted out: "We work our butts off. It's not fair that you give your title to the guy your boning."

L stared at her strangely, but then had to turn his attention to the rest of the class and their deluge of comments/accusations:

"We can't compete with _that_. Sure he's smart, but becoming your successor shouldn't be a beauty pageant."

"I thought you were different from the other stupid adults."

"C'mon, it's not _totally_ L's fault. That guy probably seduced him or something…"

"Seduced him or not, this is our future we're talking about. I don't care if he's having L's babies –"

L turned on his heels and left before he could hear the end of that sentence. No one had noticed his exit either, too embroiled in talking among themselves that they did not even realize the object of their conversation had disappeared.

But L couldn't wait for them straighten out their facts. He had other pressing matters to attend to, like dealing with a certain brunette who was having fun at his expense.

L had no doubt in his mind who had turned the entire teenage body of Wammy House against him, and, as he walked into the room at the south end of the second floor, he found said culprit lying on his bed, flipping through a magazine and giving the impression that so far his Sunday had been a very relaxing one.

Raito glanced up, and when he saw who it was, he went back to reading his magazine. L didn't take offense at being so flippantly dismissed. Raito had a weird (but not so much) fascination with magazines. L supposed he was only interested in the articles about Kira (which they had plenty off) and would skim through them in between any serious reading or studying.

Not intimidated in the least, L walked up to Raito, took the magazine from right under his nose, and tossed it to the side. "I need to talk to you," and the way he put it left no room for argument.

But to expect his words to go unchallenged was simply wishful thinking on his part.

Raito, glancing over at the discarded magazine, turned those amber eyes on him next. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes, I do not give you enough credit for your twisted sense of humor—now follow me." L grabbed Raito by the elbow, then pulled him to his feet and started for the door, Raito's elbow still in his grasp.

"Do you mind explaining what exactly you're doing?" Raito eyed the fingers clamped around the bend of his arm.

"I am confident that this talk that we are about to have will revert to an argument, so I am taking you to the garage so we can yell to our heart's content and not bother anyone."

"We're about to have an argument?" Raito asked with a chuckle in his voice. "I actually don't feel like it today." Despite the expression of these sentiments from Raito, he let L pull him to their destination nonetheless.

"Now," L said while locking the door behind him. He strode past Raito and then opened the door for the black Mercedes Benz that also called this garage its home, one of his hands motioning towards the leather interior.

"Get in."

Raito raised an eyebrow. "And why should I?"

"Because I not only predict an argument will break out between us, but a fist-fight as well. This enclosed space will ensure that when I kick my foot out, you will be there to receive it."

Not finding his joke funny in the least, Raito scoffed at him and walked around to the other side of the car—who knows, it might stop the situation from escalating if he had something big and immovable standing between them.

"Come here," L called in that ridiculously obnoxious and bossy manner, the one that he unconsciously took up with people when they weren't doing what he wanted them to.

"I am very angry with you. I am sure you know why."

"_Look_" Raito quickly began in his defense, because to deny at this point would impede progress, "Near saw the hickies on my back and asked about them. I didn't think it was a big deal at the time, so I told him the truth."

_Though he'd forgotten to mention that he'd tweaked the truth a bit._

Leaning into the passenger side of the black car, Raito innocently rested his hands one on top of the other on the cool expanse of roof. "How was I supposed to know that he would turn around and tell everyone in the class?"

Actually, Raito had been counting on Near to tell Mello and for the news to slip out that way. Once Near or Mello were the source of the rumor, that would make it much more believable than if he had ever said anything. None of the children at the orphanage trusted a thing that came out of his mouth, but they would trust one of their own, and particularly the two at the top of the class.

L gave him an incredulous look, as if he couldn't believe he would feed him such a sugar-coated version of the truth when they both knew better. In his defense, Raito was putting it this way in the hope that his politeness and tact would be returned: after-all, he would be unable to get his point across if they started screaming at each other from the start.

"I know I was the one that asked you to give everyone the impression that you were a candidate. That way, it would put pressure on them to perform at their best," and the way L kept pausing after every few words, like it was an effort to get them out, precisely conveyed the anger the detective was currently feeling. "By the rise in scores I can see it has worked and I have you to thank for that.

"But," the word was then followed by a sigh, "I asked you to play the villain, not _be _the villain. You've been pushing them harder than I intended and now I realize that has nothing to do with my wishes."

Then as far as non-sequiturs went: "They called me a traitor." L then stared at him as if he wanted to jump over the hood of the car and kick him in the face. "I have never been called a traitor in my life."

_But you've probably been called everything else in the book,_ Raito thought and smiled outwardly at L. "Why are you letting them bother you? You're a grown man," _Supposedly. _"Do you think they could understand what goes on between adults?" Raito walked back around the car, his fingers dragging across the smooth black exterior as he came to a stop behind L.

"They would understand if you weren't so mean to them," L responded and Raito could hear the pouting even in that deep and nasally voice of his. "And now that they have associated me, their amiable mentor, with you, their natural enemy—"

"Does this have a point?" Raito asked with a tick in his eye.

"Yes, the point is that in their eyes, their role model has become tainted and deemed a traitor. You have ruined about a decade's worth of trust and blind faith and have replaced it with suspicion and hypocrisy. You have also hurt my feelings and my male pride." L stared at him in the reflection of the car's window. "I would say 'nice going' but I think I have made my point."

Sighing deeply, Raito pressed up against L's back, wound his arms around his neck, and rested his chin on the closest shoulder.

He hadn't set out with the intention of hurting L. When they'd fallen into bed together, he had been genuinely frustrated and angry. It was afterward, when he had visited L, that the thought had crossed his mind. It was the anger, he supposed, that made him do it. He was going to be indebted to this person for the rest of his life, and L could promise to try to make it better until he was blue in the face, it did not change the fact that Raito was still going to be under him for a very long time. He wished he were fine with that. Maybe he would be happier if he were that easy-going. But Raito knew he could never be complacent with his lot in life.

So that night, his ambition had taken over, and he had pushed and pushed until L had agreed to sleep with him again. Frustration had already made all the children targets during his spare time, but that didn't stop him from becoming even meaner.

Also, L calling him a **cold-blooded murderer** to his face had made him hold a grudge, and Raito was the type that could hold grudges for an eternity if no one reasoned with him.

"So what is it that you want?" L questioned, the detective unable to mask his hostile tone, nor did he want to.

Raito toyed with the neckline of his shirt. "Want?" he asked, mimicking L from yesterday when he had cornered him by the door to his room.

"Yes, you want something if you went through all the trouble to piss me off?"

Because L was giving special treatment to a "candidate," the children saw his actions as unforgivable, and he was in no position to explain himself to them. Raito, on the other hand, though considered enemy number one, could still fix this for him by pretending to drop out of the race, thereby appeasing the children who felt wronged.

L could try to demand that Raito do this for him simply because he said so, but using threats like that would only make the brunette grow cold towards him, and it would also make him even harder to handle.

L didn't need that.

But certainly he didn't want something like their petty feelings for each other mucking up what he considered a noble competition between the youth. That would be unfortunate. So if he didn't want this to affect anyone's scores, or this news to reach Roger, he would have to clean this mess up quickly and negotiate with Raito.

L didn't think that his former caretaker would give him any grief about his sex life since that was clearly his own business, but Roger would at least inquire after it if Watari called, and that was a problem in itself.

The last time Watari had checked up on him and the subject had turned to Raito, L had declared—almost boastfully—that everything was under control. Of course his reassurances had stemmed from the fact that he had been sleeping with Raito at the time. He knew Watari hadn't thought it was a very good idea for him to keep Raito alive, so if he found out that he had not only gone back on his word of keeping Raito at a distance, but more importantly had put himself in a position to be taken advantage of, the older man would no doubt give him an earful. He didn't think his lying about sleeping with Raito would bother Watari as much as his lack of control over a situation that could have very well been avoided with some restraint.

At a very young age, L had been taught to never let his emotions get the better of him. Watari had always stressed that point, and, at a fundamental level, L understood why that was, but only now that he was going against those wishes did the detective truly understand the value of that advice.

L sensed that Watari had not only opted out of accompanying him because of the need to visit his two daughters, but because he had wanted to see if L could control himself when no one was there to stop him, or chastise him for actions that he knew were wrong.

Watari leaving him alone with Raito was possibly his way of urging him to quickly get this emotion under control so he could properly focus when he returned to work. The older man might view him as the son that he never had, but L was also an investment that he had poured time and money into. For his investment to suddenly take on such an incapacitating weakness meant that something had gone wrong and now measures needed to be taken to get L back on the right track.

Since Raito was root of his weakness, throwing him into immediate vicinity with the brunette was going to force him to confront this obstacle and change, either for better or for worse.

Clearly, he was not off to a very promising start with the way things were going. L could almost hear the masked criticism. He could almost hear that tone of voice that Watari took on when he was opposed to L's decisions, but would not confront him on it, only patiently waiting for him to see the errors of his ways.

Not in the mood to be so indirectly criticized (he got enough of the direct kind from Raito), L found himself preferring to just cover up his mistakes rather than making them further known.

Raito, annoyingly enough, had taken that reaction into consideration when he'd decided to sleep with him and instigate matters between himself and Wammy House. L could see this situation no other way when the next words to be murmured against his ear were, "There is actually something that I want."

Having his expectations fulfilled (and not in a good way) left L moody, and he shoved at the brunette with his elbow, attempting to put some space between them. He was not in the mood to play nice with Raito anymore. "I am going to have to find a new pet-name for you because even Satan has his limits."

"Well, Satan didn't have to deal with you on a regular basis," Raito retorted, all that convenient sweetness departing from him in the same curt fashion that he was abandoning his spot behind L. "You think I like doing these things. I don't enjoy deceiving people, but what else am I left with when you won't even listen to a word I have to say. You can't just take from me and not expect me to want anything in return."

Without him wholly conscious of the motion, L stiffly cocked his head to the side, as if he could not believe what he was hearing. "I hope you are not implying that I _still_ give you my title. We are negotiating now because you are promising to leave this topic be. I can give you something else, but that position is out of the question and do not ask for it again because it is not yours to have. You cannot just snap your fingers at me and expect to be given everything you want. Not to disrespect Soichirou-san, but I am_ not_ your father and I will not dote on you like he has."

Raito gave him a horrified look. "Do _not_ arbitrarily bring my father into this argument, you bastard."

"This is why I said 'no disrespect,'" L stressed. "Please do not take my answer out of context—"

"You have some serious nerve."

"And you have taken the words right out of my mouth," L answered back. "In the end, it is up to _me _to decide who will succeed me. It is not up to Raito-kun, who in the past five minutes has tackled this argument under the mistaken notion that he is the ruler of the universe and destroyer of all that is evil."

From the other side of the car, L heard Raito clenching his hand. He actually heard the straining sound from his fingers tightening into a fist, and L supposed anyone at this point would have had reservations about sarcastically calling Raito Yagami "ruler of the universe" and "destroyer of all evil" to his face.

Raito was prone to violence when angered—a simplistic reaction from someone so complex, but L could not deny that he was also prone to violence himself when he was up against a situation where no amount of reasoning could help him. His resorting to violence, he supposed, was his frustration over his inability to reason his way out of this. With anybody else, he would have already won this argument and been in the kitchen enjoying a slice of early morning cake. He could have been eating cake right about now. But unfortunately for both of them, when it came to reasoning skills, they cancelled each other out…like hydrogen and hydroxide ions in a water molecule, which left them with no choice but to look elsewhere for determining a winner. And "that elsewhere" was steadily taking the shape of a fist-fight.

He knew it was the wrong approach to take. No person should ever feel the need to hit the person they loved. It didn't matter if that person was the same sex, you didn't lash out at them. Ever. And yet here he was, knowing full well that if Raito threw the first punch, he would certainly follow it up with a kick to the ribs and an attempt to tackle him into Roger's Mercedes Benz, so he could muffle all the noises they were going to make while beating each other up.

Maybe the reason he never felt bad about hitting Raito was the fact that the brunette always hit him back, and very hard at that. To him, it was a joke to ever consider this some form of abuse or bullying: one victim and one bully was needed for this to be called abuse, what they had was no victim and two bullies, which did not qualify as abuse but simply as a lot of misdirected testosterone.

It truly could be worse. They could be trying to kill each other right now instead of simply wanting to beat each other up. It wasn't like he could consult a manual or find a source with prior knowledge on how he should treat Raito as a love interest. He highly doubted that there was such a dating handbook out there, which took into consideration that the person he was trying to court was also the same person that had killed hundreds of people a day for about one year, had plotted to not only destroy him but use his position to further his schemes, had then seduced him, mind-fucked with him, and finally siced fanatical priests on him.

He also doubted that any manual would take into consideration that he had kidnapped his love interest, locked that person in the basement of his Russian facilities, tortured them for about half a year, and then stripped them of their memories so they no longer proved to be a menace to society/him. If there was such a book that could give him advice while taking into consideration their rocky back-history (to say the least), L would have bought one for himself and then he would have bought one for Raito. He also would have given the writer of said book his entire fortune because that was the least he could do after this person had made him so happy and so not confused.

But he was getting off topic. Luckily, the sounds of more intimidating fist-clenching was there to bring him back to his reality. Raito's voice was also there to bring him back, but its serious tone combined with the subject matter that it chose to tackle at that moment made him feel like he had zoned out again, or it proved once more that Raito Yagami could say some utterly ridiculous things with a completely straight face.

"If I was 'the ruler of the universe' I wouldn't be having this conversation with you right now." Raito put his hands on the car and leaned over it. "And if I was 'the destroyer of all that is evil' you certainly wouldn't be standing here in front of me having this conversation in the first place."

L propped up his elbow on the roof of the car and stared at Raito in amazement. "Was that a threat, because threatening the person who you are asking favors of is never the wisest course of action to take. It does not incite within me the sudden urge to hand over my title to you, if that helps."

"That's fine," Raito assented quickly, which threw L completely off, "Because I don't want your title…" Raito paused and his gaze drifted to the side. "I want to create my own detective."

As Raito's words dawned on him, L felt his mouth go dry, the surprise of the moment seeping into him like hot-air in a balloon, steadily filling him up, so there was still a tiny part of him unaffected by this news, still deflated and numb. L let that part speak for him, but knew that calm would only last a minute. "No, I have already witnessed what you can do with a faceless representation of your ideals. I do not want to see that happening again."

"You're blowing it way out of proportion."

Minute up. "Would you like me to tell you the total number of criminals you killed in your time as Kira? I will tell you and then we can decide who has just made the understatement of the year."

"L," Raito said, annoyed, "I'm working for you, and any progress I make will benefit my employer—which is you."

"Why can't you be content with Eraldo Coil and Deneuve? They have already established personas and their reputations are par to none."

"Except for yours," Raito cheekily reminded. "You specifically made both of them so you could make yourself look better."

"That may be true," L candidly admitted, "but I did not create them: they were actual detectives who I defeated and then assumed the identities of."

Raito gaped at L.

"That's even worse!" he shouted in disgust. "You want me to assume the identities of your _defeated _enemies?!

L shrugged. "Do not take it so personally."

"How could I not!" Raito fired back. "God, you're so—" He made an aggravated sound and tossed up his head at him, fuming in that prissy way that with anyone else would have made L instantly walk out of the room, but with Raito made him stand at attention and on guard.

In hindsight, L was glad he had opted to relocate to a region of the house that was bare of the usual trappings of any room. He was particularly glad that he had not chosen the kitchen to do this in because knowing the brunette's penchant for throwing things at him when he was especially furious, L would have walked away from this argument with a knife in his head.

But then again, there was a car here…

"And what's worse," Raito continued, "is that if I agreed to pose as those two, I'd be aiding and abetting in a crime. I'm sure you had them killed off when they weren't looking." Raito scoffed at him when he was met with no reaction. "I know you operate within the gray zones of the law, but you're more criminal than detective, and as someone who's going to work for you, I feel uncomfortable with your methods. I feel you should rethink a lot of them and clean up your act."

L had a god-awful smile on his face, like he thought Raito's little justice spiel was just too funny. "You are not hurting my feelings, but if I can speak from one criminal to another," Raito frowned at that, "I can promise you that my indiscretions against humanity are a drop in the bucket when compared to yours. It also helps that no one has yet to catch me and I doubt they ever will."

It was not the first time Raito had thought he would be working for a corrupt bastard, but never so vehemently and with such a desire to do things right. He was the son of the chief of the NPA, after all. Justice was in his blood. "No," Raito said firmly, "I can't in good conscience just step into the shoes of two murdered men. Even if I have to die," he resolved and knew that was not a promise he should make so lightly, knowing the company he was currently keeping.

"You are being melodramatic," L said. "I would much rather you admit to not wanting those two positions because they have 'loser circle' written all over them than have you feign righteousness, though you are particularly hung up on the word, so maybe I should not be surprised when it pops up into your thinking every now and again."

Raito glared heatedly at L and the detective put his hands up in a conciliatory gesture.

"I understand why you want to create your own detective. Coil and Deneuve are already set in their behavioral patterns—one is money-hungry and the other is a complete coward. Neither personality trait fits you, so I think it would not be long until your clients saw discrepancies in your character, from the way you would handle cases to the type of cases you would be taking." L cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. "You have a strange purity and altruism to you, so that will undoubtedly clash with the two in question. Now that I think about it, your creation would probably be a sincere, justice-proclaiming moralist.

"I fear for the future," L concluded after a thoughtful pause.

"You can't handle competition," Raito said in a challenging tone.

L didn't seem to enjoy being called out on his skills as a detective. "I would like to see you try," he told him flatly.

"So is that a 'yes' on the new detective?"

"I don't think I have a choice in the matter," L admitted and scratched his elbow gruffly.

Giving Raito his title was out of the question, as that position was fated for either Near or Mello.

Over the course of years, both boys had certainly proven themselves in academics; however, if academics were the only criteria he was going on, Raito would have gotten his title hands down. What L needed was someone who would follow his lead on how to solve cases. Near and Mello were still very young and did not have any experience as detectives, and as such, they were more open to his methods, unlike say someone who was too opinionated and had a firm set of beliefs on matters of what constituted as justice.

Now he was not looking for a robot that would agree with him at every turn, but a successor that understood that as the new L, he would need to incorporate some of his predecessor's views into his thinking and from there use that as his basis of objectivity. It might seem like his ego talking when put like that (and some of it was) but a large portion of his reasoning also had to do with the fact that using his methods had gotten the job done. Given that he had a 100 percent success rate on every case he had worked on, following his methods was an obvious conclusion. Not to mention that Wammy was the other deciding factor on how the new L should or should not behave. Watari also had confidence in L's methods, so he would like to have them continued on down the line. And what L meant by "methods" was not so much technical as it had to do with the frame of mind he tackled each case with.

Detective work was his hobby and to view it as anything more or anything less was going to interfere with his objectivity. The only time L had ever fallen off this path was when he had gone after Raito and gotten himself caught up in a pissing contest to define justice. Before that, he had never had an opinion either way, but Raito had this way about him that made L want to show-off and prove him wrong, made him want to win and inflate his own ego.

When a detective became too judgmental on the morals of the criminal he was chasing, he had already lost one-half of the battle. To bring in high-handed opinions of what was right and what was wrong was not what he believed the role of L should fulfill. L should act as a balance between the criminal element and police organizations around the world, and he should use whatever means to get the job done, without feeling restrained by either side. That was what L should be. Raito could not work with criminals (the irony of that) and was quick to sympathize with law enforcement because of his father. He would view his position as L as one of sacrifice, sanctimony, and duty. The complete opposite of what L felt his position should stand for. Raito was ill-suited to be the next L, but he was not ill-suited to become a detective.

However, L didn't want Raito wielding too much power and this request for a detective-title was a push in that direction. It was not a good precedent to set, but L would concede this time if it meant keeping Raito well away from his own title, which was a very worthwhile endeavor, if he did say so himself.

"You can do this," L said, "but if you over-step your boundaries with me, I will have no problem killing off your new detective and returning you to Coil and Deneuve duty. We will talk about all the restrictions I plan to place on you because of this change, but for now I must figure out a way to break this news to Watari. It will require an excuse that both makes me look good and is believable. I predict that will take some time to come up with so I will be in my room. Do not disturb me."

L walked to the door and unlocked it. Then he turned around to look at him. "Unless you have baked a cake, which I would recommend you do, soon, because I have yet to forgive you and the plausibility of my excuse may hang in the balance."

* * *

The window ledge was a dull sensation against the back of his thigh.

Shifting, Raito made himself more comfortable in his makeshift seat. He rested the side of his neck on the glass pane of the window, gazed out at the garden, but was unable to discern any definite shapes past the sunspots clouding his vision, only the colored blurs of blue outside the windowsill, wavering in wind and seemingly unfettered to a stalk.

Blinking the sunspots out of his eyes listlessly, Raito turned back to the hallway where on the wall opposite from him, lights like water-currents wavered and his almost translucent silhouette flickered in and out of existence in it, thinning as passing clouds interrupted the sunlight coming in through the window behind him.

Raito touched a finger to the watch on his wrist.

He had known that L would be angry with him for what he'd done, but that was only natural. If there was one thing Raito could count on when it came to the two of them, it was that whenever they tried to talk to each other, someone was always bound to walk away from the conversation pissed off.

For the past few weeks, Raito had felt like he'd been the one assuming that role more often than not—which had not improved his mood, if his snideness towards everyone around him was any indication.

It was hard; L didn't understand how hard it was some days… Having to scratch and claw for his attention, for a chance to speak his mind and express his own desires…. Raito didn't want to fight with L, but he didn't want to stay quiet with the man either. If he wanted to Raito knew he could ignore L for the rest of eternity. He also knew that if he wanted to, he could make L so miserable that the detective would forget about all those feelings that he supposedly had.

But how was that in Raito's better interests? How was hate going to better his situation? How would turning a cold shoulder to a person who held power, power that Raito more importantly craved for himself—how would that turn Raito into a person who would be able to look at himself in the mirror without cringing? Raito was not especially proud of the things he done during the past month, but he had no intention of ever stopping.

L had power and influence, more than anyone Raito had ever met. The amount of sway he had over the governments of the world was sickening, but at the same time Raito was drawn to that part of L like a moth to the flame. He couldn't deny that he was intrigued with that power or that he wanted it for himself. His other half had even taken measures to take L out of the picture and usurp his role for that very reason.

_Power._

Having more power might not liberate him from L, but it would make this bearable. It would make his captivity actually worth it.

And the only way Raito could see himself acquiring that power was by building a reputation.

When a reasonable amount of time had passed for L to resume his detective work, Raito had been instructed to take over the roles of Deneuve and Coil from Watari. But Raito knew he would not receive any satisfaction from building up the reputations of two cowards, and dead men at that. He wanted his own detective alias and the ability to create a persona that was in keeping with his own ideals. He wanted that alias to represent justice, not the fake sense of justice that L doled out selectively, but a system that worked for the people and at least tried its best not to leave anyone out. Raito wanted to be a preventive measure rather than a justice that worked after the fact. He wanted so much and he would need so much power to have it all realized.

_L's power._

L had said that he loved him. Now whether his feelings were genuine was of no concern to Raito. He had foolishly argued with L on that topic when he should have known better.

People who claimed to be in love didn't want the object of their desire trying to convince them otherwise, even worse, telling them that their love was just a really strong case of lust. That insulted them, and Raito should have seen L's prickly comments a mile away. For that reason, L's feelings were not up for discussion now.

The only thing that Raito needed to know was that L desired him and the fulfillment of that singular physical drive was compelling L to be less of a bastard to him than usual.

Now it might sound under-handed the way he handled L's feelings for him, but Raito had not made any grand pretenses of love when he'd approached the detective. In fact, he thought he was being rather straightforward in how he handled the whole ordeal. He had told L that he didn't love him, nor did he believe he ever would. But he had also admitted to wanting a sexual relationship with him. As far as emotional honesty went, Raito was being completely upfront with the detective.

After they had slept together that one night, Raito could have dismissed it as a mistake and not even bothered to apologize. That would have hurt his plans, but he would have not bothered if he thought L liking him was more of a hassle than a blessing. He could have moved onto Misa. And he did. No use in denying that after he and L had started sleeping together, he had started fooling around with the blonde too. He wasn't doing it to be spiteful either, just using it as a point of comparison.

Raito had no idea why he wanted to have sex with L—a guy, a really annoying guy, who treated him like his personal butler and whose every other word to Raito was either an insult or a really lame compliment. It was so bizarre how someone like this could arouse him, so much so that he'd actually jumped him in frustration…

It was that kind of thing that made Raito hesitate towards analyzing himself and his own sexuality.

He was straight… or he was pretty sure he was straight. He'd had sex with Misa just fine and had enjoyed it for what it was. So Raito could not really wrap his head around why he wasn't able to leave L alone. It could have something to do with Kira and his residual emotions for L. Spending two years living with someone was going to make you very comfortable with that person whether you liked it or not. But Raito couldn't overlook the other reason for this attraction, the reason that had probably sparked all of this into existence:

_Danger. _

The real possibility of failure, the challenge that came along from fighting against all odds…

Raito might not understand all Kira's thought processes when it came to L, but the amount of danger L had posed to him during those two years—the amount of danger he still posed to him now—that must have gotten him off faster than L going down on him.

Kira had thrived on that danger, had wanted it, had then wanted to overcome it. The thrill of doing something that was impossible, maybe even a little bit improper-- if it wasn't the entire reason, then it had to be a part of why Kira had slept with L. Had to be a part of the reason why he slept with him now.

Holding the watch up to the window, Raito peered at it through the haze of sunlight and spinning dust-motes.

Time had stopped for Kira, but had started back for Raito Yagami, as if he'd been asleep this entire time and was now only waking up. Or, as he gave precedence to his other half, was it more appropriate to say that he was finally going to sleep after having stayed awake for all this time? But who was to say which one was the right interpretation to take? He was tired either way, whether from dreaming or waking, and in all honesty, he didn't want to think anymore. He was just so tired of thinking about it, really.

So he was grateful when he spotted the person he'd been waiting for, the entrance of the white-haired boy pulling him back to his present and reminding him of all the things that needed to be done.

Raising a hand midway in the air, Raito uncurled his fingers at Near slowly, ever fond of the unamused look the white-haired boy would get on his face when he waved at him playfully. Near wasn't as good about handling teasing as L, who specialized in bugging Raito as much as he did in reading the criminal mind. It could be because of Near's young age that Raito's teasing wasn't appreciated very much, or it could be because of his nature that was a tad more serious than L's. Whatever the case, it didn't change that fact that messing with Near was more fun that one would expect.

Near turned an uninterested gaze his way, like he had come across a potted-plant instead of a human being. "You seem to be in a good mood."

_So he had noticed._ Well Raito wouldn't deny it. "I am, but I don't think I can say the same for you," he pointed out as he took in the darker than usual aura that was surrounding Near. "Is there something I can do for you?"

Near aptly turned a suspicious look his way.

"What do you want?"

Raito thought it was time to cut to the chase. "I came to tell you I'm dropping out of your race. That's all. I'd also appreciate if you passed on that message to Mello, but I know you won't have any trouble doing that, seeing as how I've gotten this far," and Raito absolutely loved the way those dark eyes grew even darker with resentment.

"It's actually all thanks to you that I'm in such a good mood," Raito admitted breezily. L wouldn't have budged on the decision to give him a new detective persona if he hadn't riled up his successors. They had served him well.

"Why are you dropping out?"

"Because it's boring," Raito lied. He had dropped out because a better position had opened up, but he wasn't about to tell Near that. In comparison to what he had gained today, L's title was piddling. The power to create was what Raito was after.

"You should be more thrilled by the news. I won't be intruding in your competition against Mello anymore," Raito said but knew Near's irritation mainly stemmed from all the hoops that Raito had made him jump through in order to reach the truth. For a person who didn't like to waste his time on anything other than playtime, the past few days must have been especially annoying for him.

"It gives you more time with your—" When a child exited the classroom, Raito chose instead to hold up his pinky finger to convey his point. He didn't know why, but it was great fun to annoy Near. He'd even go so far as to say it was almost as much fun as annoying L.

_Almost._ Near was much easier to read than his predecessor, so before the boy had any notions about pulling one over on Raito, some maturing was in order. L had asked him to act as a sort of catalyst for his young successors' growth and development, after all, and who was Raito to say no.

Leaning forward into Near's personal space without so much as a warning, Raito audaciously pecked him on the cheek. "_No hard feelings_," he whispered into his ear.

Near's frown deepened. Then with that same sour expression on his face, he took the back of his hand and slowly dragged it across his cheek, wiping away any and all traces of the kiss, all the while boldly staring him right in the face.

"I'd rather not have my first kiss stolen from someone whose mouth switches between two partners on a daily basis."

Raito would have laughed, but he was too busy trying to look serious. "So…do you want me to break up with them and go out with you instead?" Raito made a show at puzzlement. "I'm not into shouta. But in five years you will turn eighteen," Raito gave him an assessing look, "and the resemblance is uncanny. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were his illegitimate son. You definitely have a cute face, and if the resemblance becomes more pronounced as you mature, I'm going to end up being your number one supporter for the next L."

That seemed to finally do it, and giving him a disgruntled look, Near turned around and headed back the way he came, the teenager in him unable to take prolonged sessions of teasing from someone older and silver-tongued to boot. Raito smirked at his retreating form. He really shouldn't be teasing Near like this, but he just couldn't help it. The things he said to Raito, though very uncute and highly insulting, still entertained him more than it should.

* * *

The music room was like any other room at Wammy House—filled rarely but empty regularly. It was not very far from the library and kitchen, taking up a small corner on the western side of the orphanage, in the shadow of the old church; but because of its "out of the way" location in that dark recess, it seemed far-removed from the rest of the orphanage. The poor lighting and location had even started a rumor a long time ago about the music room being haunted and how ghosts would come out if it heard anyone playing.

Near found this rumor absolutely ridiculous, as there were no such things as ghosts, and for an institute that prided itself on rational and methodical thinking, this was hardly the place for such rumors to take root. Though it didn't seem to matter how smart the residents of Wammy House were, if a rumor sounded interesting, everyone would spread it around all the same. What mattered sometimes with rumors, Near realized a long time ago, was not its feasibility, but its utter ridiculousness.

This ghost story was the same.

Everyone wanted to amuse themselves, and since Wammy House didn't have any interesting lore of its own, they would make one up. A really stupid one, Near concluded, but something that was theirs nonetheless.

He didn't think anyone past the rumor's lifecycle, which had been about a month (barely), took it seriously anymore. Not to say that it wasn't the butt of a joke during its lifecycle, because it had been (a lot), and everyone at the time had seemed to get a kick out of running into the music room at night and then hiding so they could scare their friends when they in turn came to scare them.

Like he said before, completely ridiculous.

But there were times for Near when he found the music room strange. He was, however, more inclined to believe that these feelings stemmed from his perceptions rather than supernatural forces, or rather the associations his brain made between certain memories and this room. Particularly, the sounds that would wonder out at all hours of the night, created again not by ghosts but by an actual person, one that would enter into this room as any other child, pick up a violin, and then play to his heart's content. The erratic way in which these solos came up to him, sometimes a month from the day or hours afterward, suggested that person did not play for any scholastic reasons. Possibly they played just because they could, and that made sense since many of the children were like that at the Institute. They did things just because.

But there were times when the playing would frequently end up on days after an exam. Near supposed it was a form of stress relief, and he was right to think so when he found out that the violinist was none other than Mello. It was a long time ago—the fact that his peers had been spreading ghost stories around should have implied what age and mind-set they had been in—but the past years did not stop Near's brain from connecting the far-off sounds of a violin with the strange aura of the music room.

It was the ceaseless haunting quality of the music now stealing into the hallway to meet him that made the room seem so eerie and out-of-sorts. Near listened as Chopin's "Nocturne" faded into the silence and "Ave Maria" trembled into place behind the door. Unconsciously, he found himself rubbing at his cheek, specifically where Kiyoshi had nonchalantly placed his poisonous lips not too long ago. Near grimaced at the action when he'd meant to knock, feeling suddenly stupid for letting Kiyoshi get under his skin so easily. _That guy was seriously out of control…_

Raising his hand with a deliberate motion, Near knocked on the door louder than he wanted to.

Matt was the one to answer, and the redhead gave him an odd look before saying under his breath, "You have bad timing."

Near didn't respond, but instead his gaze transferred to the raised platform in the middle of the room where Mello was seated. The blond didn't look particularly angry as Matt had made him out to be, his eyes closed and concentration on his playing.

All the curtains had been drawn back in the room, so Near could see the church across the way and the shadows it was casting on this side of the orphanage. There was a sheet of light that existed between the two buildings, untouched by the shadows and transformed into concentrated brightness the moment it hit the window pane and slanted across the floor towards the platform, towards Mello whose blond hair shone like spun gold when caught in the afternoon sun. The intense color, flaming like it was about to catch fire, had muted the surrounding of the music room, made everything seem so washed-out that it was too easy to spot Mello in that crossing of light and darkness.

Now that the oak door was open to him, Near could hear the full effect of the music; more than hear it, he could feel it rising and swelling from the center of the room, like a mass that was gaining speed and power with every minute that passed by. And as Near stepped past the threshold and moved closer, he could feel the air around him trembling, quivering, as if ready to collapse in on itself if that bow eased up for even an instant, as if those few notes were actually holding all the physical space around him together.

"Why are you here?" Mello asked, sensing him close by but not stopping. "Nevermind," he dismissed in the same breath and opened his eyes abruptly. He set his violin down and the drastic quiet that followed seemed to add more weight to the severe expression that Mello then turned on him. "I just don't get you. You tell me not to say anything to Matt and then you turn around and blab everything."

Furtively, Matt and Near glanced at each other, neither one about to disclose the circumstance around yesterday's conversation.

"Then Matt tells Linda for some reason..."

The boy in question raised his head. "Hey, I was worried. You were acting weird…and when Linda asked what was up, I told her. Did I mention how weird you were acting yesterday?"

"I wasn't—" Mello stopped right there before his voice rose any more than normal. "That doesn't matter. You shouldn't have said anything. What the hell was going through your head?"

"Whoa, this is my fault?" Matt turned in Near's direction, throwing attention on him that the white-haired boy would rather avoid. "You saw how weird he was acting? Tell me I wasn't just seeing things?"

Near saw, but to corroborate Matt's side of things would be to throw open a door that he would much rather leave closed. In the last few days, Near had learned answers to questions that he didn't even want answers to. So suffice to say, he wasn't going near this subject with a twenty-foot pole. This wasn't what he came here for, anyway. He was the bearer of enough bad news, as he was certain Matt wouldn't be so pushy for answers if he knew the other reason why Mello hated Kiyoshi.

When Near remained quiet, showing Matt just how forthcoming he was planning on being in this matter, the redhead rubbed the back of his head tiredly. "For some reason, I always end up looking like the jackass here."

Mello made an annoyed sound. "You know something, you two are brainless. Now everyone in class knows. How's that going to help any of us."

"You know what doesn't help," Matt interceded, "you yelling at us."

"Then fuck you and your big mouth," Mello snapped at him.

"Well fuck you back for not being able to shut my big mouth up before it could blurt everything out in concern."

Near would have told them to both go fuck themselves, but he had dragged Mello into helping him and by natural procession Matt had come along. So truthfully, Near had no one to blame but himself for what was happening now. Mello also seemed to agree with this logic, because in the next instant he glared at him. "I'm not mad at you, Matt," the blond calmly said as he continued to glare at Near in a very telling way. "The person who I'm really angry with is standing right in front of me."

"Cool because I hate to fight with you too," Matt admitted in one breath and subsequently broke the record for the fastest "forgive and forget." Matt and Mello were not really known to start fights with each other, their strong suits laying elsewhere, like in the making-up department. So it was no surprise to Near that they couldn't stay mad at each other for more than one minute. Call it the BFF syndrome at work, all Near knew was that this spelled trouble for him.

"He knew I would help him because I wanted to know the truth, but I wonder if he's been withholding information since the beginning," Mello accused.

"I told you everything I know," Near said and that was the honest truth, though he'd never gone into details about his conversations with Kiyoshi and no threat made upon his life would convince him to do otherwise. He would take that to his grave.

"I doubt that," Mello said for the sake of being difficult. "But I'm not going to accuse you of anything heinous. I'm just saying this is your fault. We have no idea how L's going to react to this getting out."

"I think he'll be fine with it," Matt threw out off-handedly as he took out his Gameboy, content to leave these matters to Mello now that they were on the best of terms again.

"I don't think we have anything to worry about either," Near agreed. They weren't the source of conflict for L. No, that came in the form of a know-it-all brunette who was in dire need of an attitude adjustment. Near didn't know about L specifically, but having your lover brag about how much they had you wrapped around their little picky finger was bound to annoy anyone. He would think that "prince charming" would have seen the trouble a mile away and smartly kept his mouth shut.

So why Kiyoshi had still told Near, expecting him to turn around and tell Mello—it just didn't seem like him. The last thing he should want to do was really piss off the person that held the position he wanted. He should be upset that his scare-tactics had backfired, and yet earlier that day, Kiyoshi had met Near with such a pleased look on his face.

It just didn't make sense. After acting so territorial for all these months, he was dropping the chance to become L's next-in-line like yesterday's garbage. The only reasonable conclusion Near could take away from his strange behavior was that Kiyoshi had something to gain from perpetuating the rumors and angering L. But exactly what remained the question.

What was worth sacrificing L's title?

"You know something," Mello said suddenly, suspiciously, hitting the nail right on the head. "Spill it," he persisted and stood up from his seat. Mello was a good head over him and was currently using that fact as a means of intimidation. Green eyes stared down at Near, unwavering in their scrutiny, the porcelain face they were set in completely motionless, still like the head of a doll, until something seemed to catch his attention and he reanimated. He got right in his face and Near moved his head back involuntarily.

Mello sniffed at him. "Is that…cologne?"

"Kiyoshi's not in the running anymore," Near said on reflex and didn't like how he'd blurted that out, as if it should serve as some sort of explanation for why he was smelling of brunette.

In the back of Mello, sitting on the platform that the blond had just occupied, Matt mouthed the words "the _true _successor of L" at him while giving him a silent round of applause. And it might be a joke, but Near wished misfortune on the other boy all the same.

"Huh? What're you talking about?" Mello demanded in the foreground, no longer concerned about what or whom Near smelled like.

"Kiyoshi dropped out." As casually as if he had been standing in a line for a ride that he didn't want to go on anymore, Near might add.

"Can anyone bail out so easily?" Mello asked, shocked. "Can _he_ of all people bail out so easily? He's working for L, so is it that easy to say 'I don't want to do this anymore, let me do something else'?" There was a faint tinge of desperation to Mello's question. Near heard him make a faint sound, a cross between a sign and a frustrated sob, and he wisely stepped to the side to avoid Mello's oncoming wraith.

"Dammit," he seethed under his breath. "That son of bitch has been playing with us this entire time."

"Uhh…" In the background, Matt raised a hand hesitantly. "Can't we look at the bright-side of this, like you have less to worry about now that that's guy's out of the picture?"

"That's not the damn point!" Mello shouted back and his reaction would have startled anyone who wasn't used to the blond's harsh way of speaking. "How can I compete with this guy if he's not there to compete against? What am I supposed to do against an enemy that goes into hiding?"

"Well…" Matt hopped off the platform "…I can tell you what you can do and that's nothing. You should let the answers come to you instead of the other way around. Involves less hassle."

"You would say that," Mello said. "But the slacker mentality is not my mentality. Go peddle it elsewhere."

"It can be anyone's mentality if they try hard enough."

The irony in his words made Mello stare at him extra hard. "No, I can't. I won't. Leave me alone: I need to think." Mello had a determined look on his face as he said this; however, anyone could tell from his tone of voice that he wasn't angry anymore. When it came to calming the beast, Near would rather leave Matt in charge, as it was pretty much known around the orphanage that Mello had a soft-spot for him.

"You've had all morning to think. C'mon, we did all the stuff you wanted to do." Matt nudged him in the shoulder with a finger. Then when he saw that he wasn't getting a reaction, or not a big enough one, he began to tug on Mello's wrist. "Let's go. I bought a new RPG and the position of 'Grand Summoner of HellSpawn and Eater of Human Flesh' has your name on it." He tugged again and was met with some resistance, but not much this time, and it wasn't long until that determined expression softened.

Apparently the mention of HellSpawn and Human-flesh in the same sentence made Mello happy.

"Everything will work out fine, you'll see," Matt said as he pulled Mello to the door.

Of course Matt was full of shit. Things were not okay and Near guessed the other boy knew it too. He would just rather sweep things under the carpet because that was the easiest route to take. Plus, if it got Mello to stop fixating on L…'s title for just one moment and simply hang out like he used to, then that would probably make the other boy's day.

"Hey Near, you coming?" Matt said and subsequently interrupted his thoughts.

Near kept his face blank, even though the offer from Matt naturally confused him. Mello had yet to put a word in otherwise, which he found also strange, because usually the blond was quick to voice his dislike for him. The silence dragged on before Matt casually added as his explanation:

"I need another player to unlock the bonus stage."


	32. Night of the Young

Raito's eyes snapped open and he found himself gazing into the darkness of his bedroom. Why his eyes were open when they should be closed he had no idea. If he had to guess some outside stimulus had been the cause; but waiting revealed nothing, and Raito was all too ready to leave it that way.

He closed his eyes.

It must be the wind.

_Plick_

Unless the wind could tap on his window.

Raito opened his eyes and stared bleakly into the darkness for a second time.

Throwing the covers aside, he sat up and reached towards the lamp on his night-stand. An amber glow washed over his bare legs and chest, but fell short of the window, leaving the space in front of it to the shadows. Raito stood up and walked towards that space. The dresser had cast a block of shadow across his path and he paused in it. He gave the window another careful look.

What if it was a shinigami?

Scenarios like that sometimes played out in his head while he was going through his day. He had never believed in the supernatural, but it was out there, somewhere. Supposedly above him. Kira had even drawn a little diagram in the journal of what he supposed the Shinigami realm looked like.

The drawing must have been based on a recount from Ryuuk, he was sure. It was strange. He felt the familiarity of that name every time it broke over his tongue, could feel these phantom emotions from just the suggestion of this creature: a strange comfort; a puzzlement; a sadness, like something was missing. This shinigami had obviously meant something to him, and yet…

He could not even recall his face or his voice. It was pretty sad. Should there be a shinigami outside his window, how was Raito to know it was Ryuuk. Did he even want a shinigami outside his window? Stupid, could he even see it if it was there? Would he even be able to hear the sounds it made as it tapped on his window?

The answer was he couldn't. Not anymore.

Tonight it seemed he was prone to some dim-witted thoughts. Usually he was quick to wake, but his brain was still fogged with sleep, unable to filter out the sense from the nonsense.

L would probably enjoy that—a stupid comment or two from him. One day he would have to let one slip and see how he reacted to it. But knowing L he would probably give him a preserved strawberry or something from his pocket.

Frowning as he recalled more of L's grosser habits, Raito ambled over to the window and unlatched it. He let it fall open, looking to the left and then to the right; then he looked down into the yard.

No. There was no shinigami present, but possibly something worse.

"Hellooo, Raito-kun."

Much worse.

"You would think that after the fourth pebble you would have woken up. I did not think you were such a sound sleeper. And by the way, where are your clothes?"

Sighing and rolling his eyes—he wanted to make certain that L got the hint—Raito eased back from the window and closed it. The detective was going to have to use the door if he wanted to talk. Raito had thought that was winningly obvious, but then again L never liked to take the obvious route in life. He supposed it was one of the reasons why he liked him so much, but it was also one of the reasons why he disliked him too.

Raito returned to his bed, but before he could even settle in comfortably, he heard L throw another pebble against his window.

He turned towards the sound and glared.

Did L not understand what a door was used for?

_Plick_

Unless that one time they'd had sex against it had confused him.

_Plick_

In any case, he wasn't moving from this spot.

_Plick_

L needed to learn how take 'no' for an answer.

_Plick_

And he also needed to learn how to use a damn door.

_Crick_

Raito started up from his bed and ran over to the window throwing it open. "Stop, stop," he hissed down at L, who almost immediately dropped the rock that he was about to hurl. Frighteningly enough, there was a line of stones of increasing size and destruction by the detective's feet. Raito could only assume L was planning to pelt his window until he paid attention to him or broke through the pane and got the _entire_ orphanage to pay attention.

"You shouldn't leave when someone is trying to speak to you. It is rude."

Raito really didn't want to hear this from a guy who was throwing rocks at his window three in the morning.

"I have something important to tell you. Can you come down here?"

Sighing, Raito propped his chin up on the window-sill. "What's so important that it couldn't wait until morning?"

"I have a sudden craving for Toffee, but there is none in the house." L looked up at him like Raito should immediately understand.

"And…"

"And what? There is no Toffee. It is only natural that if there is no Toffee in the house we must go find some."

How was that natural? Raito wanted to ask but instead chose to focus on the "we" part of the sentence. "It's late…. Do you need it right this instant?"

"I would also like to spend some time with you," L said, and Raito was really "touched" by how the spending-time-with-him part seemed like an afterthought to the Toffee-hunt. "We had a fight, but Raito-kun knows that I miss him when we are apart." Innocently, L clasped his hands behind his back and looked up at him with doleful eyes. And with said eyes so large, it turned out to be a rather effective ploy at gaining sympathy.

Raito was not the most generous person when it came to sympathy, but he found it hard to say no in this situation. He knew L was used to being waited on hand and foot by Watari, but with the man no where in sight when the detective had his specific late-night cravings, there was nothing to be done but wait 'til morning.

L had been spoiled—whole-heartedly, unbearably spoiled; and Raito should not be feeling sorry for the detective because he could not suck it up and settle with one of the many other sugar-infested treats lying around, but he was. Like an idiot. He knew how high-maintenance L was when it came to the things he put in his mouth. L didn't need much in the way of creature comforts (the way he dressed and slept attested to this), but he was unbearably uncomfortable if he was unsatisfied with his food.

The texture had a lot to do with it, Raito had noticed. He liked cakes most of all because there was the sugar content and the colorful designs to contend with, but it was the smooth and rich consistency that made him continually go back to it. He could snack on cheap candy and crackers all day, but his cakes were always from good bakeries and the flour it was made from was always good quality. Sensitive as his mouth was, he could not put up with anything less.

And the fact that L was always after him for hour long make-out sessions helped in ascertaining the degree of pleasure he simply received through his mouth.

For L, oral fixation really was putting it lightly.

"Fine," Raito said backing away towards his closet. "Just give a minute."

When finished putting on his sneakers, Raito stuck his head out of the window to judge the distance to the ground. He looked down at L, and then glanced at the ledge he would be using to get down to the shelf of the first floor window below him.

As Raito began to straddle the window-sill, the leg out stretching towards the ledge to gain a foot-hold, he had a weird moment of déjà-vu that made him stop.

Well it was understandable why this would be familiar: Kira had used his bedroom window when he didn't want to alert the household to his comings and goings at night.

But why Raito was sneaking out of a window now when there was a perfectly fine door staring him in the face…? He had to wonder if there were times when being a teenager had more of an effect on your behavior than your brain did. He also hated the fact that he was doing the very thing he had frowned on L for.

Lowering himself onto the ledge, Raito crouched down and eased onto the shelf of the window below him; then he jumped the remaining distance with an easy grace that made L give him a knowing look.

"I am really not surprised by how good you are at sneaking out of windows in the cover of night."

Raito said nothing and began in earnest to smooth out imaginary wrinkles on the front of his red button-up. He waited for L to walk ahead before he raised his eyes.

"Do you think Misa-san would like to come with us?" L asked as they passed by her bedroom. "I bet she is also very good at sneaking out of windows: she was your partner in crime."

Raito scoffed at the back of L's head. "We never committed any crimes."

"So it was just the crime of being young and beautiful. That must be the reason why I spent all my time chasing after you, not because either of you posed a threat to society."

"Didn't you?" Raito chuckled.

"I am going to answer that question with a firm 'no' and if possible a kick."

Side-stepping L just in case the detective made good on his promise, Raito stopped below Misa's window and picked up a pebble from the ground. He tossed it up in the air and caught it, then repeated the motion a few more times as he pensively gazed at the window above him. A thought had come to him, but he was uncertain if he should say it out loud.

"Do you think she knows?"

"What?" L said behind him.

"About who she really is. About us. Do you think she suspects we're not who we say we are."

L came to stand beside him. "There are times when Misa-san will look at me with a very attentive stare, like she is trying to figure something out. I feel like she senses that something is off, but she does not let that stop her from being happy. It is in her nature. Why do you ask?"

"Because I sometimes wonder if I would have been better off if I never knew either." Raito raised his hand, paused in thought, and then tossed the pebble at Misa's window. "I'm not ashamed of who I was and I don't think it was wrong the things I did, but you have to understand…" Raito turned to look at him earnestly. "The thing I lost or the thing I was about to gain, it meant a lot to me, because of the ideal it represented and because…I sacrificed so many of the things I held precious in order to obtain it. It just hurts that I… failed. That I could work so hard and still—"

"I understand. You had to choose for your sake," L said rather coldly. He seemed to realize he had put his defenses up and his voice softened in apology. "I also made a choice for my own sake, and even though it hurts you, I cannot do anything but hope that someday… it will stop hurting." L touched a hand to the side of his face and Raito helplessly leaned into it.

But they were startled apart when the window above them banged open and a blonde head poked out.

Raito cleared his throat, recomposing himself. "Down here, Misa" he called and stepped forward to get her attention.

"Raito!" the girl cried.

"We're going into town, so if—"

"I'm coming!" she said and disappeared back into her room just as abruptly as she had come out.

Raito closed his mouth, left open mid-sentence, and glanced back at L, who was now looking down at his feet.

Their eyes met.

"We will talk later."

"Later," Raito agreed and felt strangely lost for words. He turned back to Misa's window, hoping that the blonde would hurry up and get down here. Things were always weird between him and L, but never to the point where he couldn't figure out what to say.

Thankfully, Misa was fast and she was at the window in under a minute.

"She dresses faster than you," L suddenly said beside him.

Raito could not help but roll his eyes. The weirdness between them evaporated in that single moment. "She's a model. They learn how to dress quickly or they lose their jobs."

"I should make friends with more models then," L said and at the moment he got hit in the face with a falling hand-bag.

Raito thought it was exceptional timing.

"Sorry. It slipped," Misa said somewhere above them.

L picked the black purse off his face, rubbing his nose. "It is okay; we will call it even since I can see up your skirt from here."

There was a vine-trellis beside Misa's bedroom window that she was using to climb down to them. When L's words floated up to her, she stopped in the middle of her descent and reached down towards her foot. "You're not supposed to look!" she yelled as she threw a slipper at his spikey-head and he ducked.

"I do not know what man will not look when you tell him not to. I suspect none of these men are down here," L said, continuing to tease her.

Misa reached down for another fashionable projectile but lost her hold on the horizontal support she was gripping. Luckily for her, Raito was there to catch her.

"My knight in shinning armor," she cooed and wrapped her arms around him.

"Stop playing around," Raito scolded them as he tried to dislodge Misa's arms from around his neck. He put her down on her feet.

Raito didn't want to be the kill-joy of the group, but for some reason he always ended up as exactly that when Misa and L began to act like children. It was really unfair since he had never had to serve such a role in any group setting. He was usually the group-listener or the group problem-solver, never the group 'Misa why are you asking me about my favorite color and L stop telling her what it is because you don't know' person. He supposed it was because these two were very strange and they couldn't carry on a civil conversation if it ran over them and then backed up and ran over them again.

"You two are going to wake the entire neighborhood."

"I'm sorry, Raito," Misa apologized, "I'll be as quiet as a mouse"; and then she absurdly began to tip-toe off.

As Raito watched her, tick in eye, he had to wonder if the blonde just did these things to humor him.

"You give the neighborhood too much credit," L said coming up beside him, close enough now to whisper in his ear. "They have yet to hear the noises you make when my head is in your lap, so—"

Raito pushed L to the side, not caring in the least to hear the end of that sentence.

L was such an obnoxious asshole sometimes.

Walking off ahead of the pair, Raito strolled over to the garage where Roger's Mercedes Benz was parked. He had never actually hot-wired a car before, but he did know how it worked in theory, and it would be interesting to test it on one of these older models.

Raito looked away from the garage as if stung. He definitely shouldn't be thinking something like that, especially when the car didn't belong to him. Plus it would be problematic if they did take it out.

Raito knew how to drive, but he didn't have a license and he doubted L had one either. Misa was the only one with a license, but what good that would do them in another country, not to mention that L had made her get rid of all forms of identification the moment she had joined them. L had given them fake IDs, but if they were pulled over by the cops, how were they going to explain themselves when it showed up that none of them actually existed? In fact, Raito thought morbidly, he was supposed to be dead. L was supposedly dead too. And Misa was missing. In the NPA database, she would probably have something like "Kidnapped" next to her name.

Wow… they were all a mess.

Sighing (he was doing a lot of that these days), Raito looked at the garage one more time. He doubted that anything more than the inconvenience of having to lie to law-enforcement—with his bad luck someone that looked like his dad—would come of them being pulled over if they did decide to take the car. L could always call Watari and have everything straightened out faster than if they did provide correct identification. But he definitely didn't want to put himself in the position to be singled out and he doubted that L would either.

"Over here," Raito heard L call behind him, and he turned to see L walking off towards the Church, Misa waving at him to follow and then pushing L in the shoulder for something he said to her; but what it was, Raito did not catch.

"Did you know that the best place to hide your bicycle is inside a church?" Raito heard L say to Misa when he had caught up.

"People feel less inclined to steal in front of statues of Mother Mary and large crucifixes with Jesus staring down at them, bloody and in the middle of sacrificing himself for their sins. It is a very good deterrent for some people."

Then Raito watched as L nonchalantly picked the lock on two of the bicycles chained to the end of a pew.

"They will not mind," L said as he turned towards him.

Raito supposed the detective was referring to the kids whose bicycles he was borrowing, but Raito was too busy marveling at how L's words never quite fit with his actions.

They walked out of the main-gate like it was a normal gate, normal in the sense that it would not set off a silent alarm in Roger's office or cell-phone —a precaution in case anyone found out that this place was more than an orphanage—and Raito was grateful for the small preservation of normalcy.

The moon was high in the sky, and a thin veil of light was thrown over the darkness. Raito could see the blue-black of L's bicycle, more that moonlight sheen off the chrome than the actual shape of the thing, and he followed the detective quietly, Misa at his side. He watched L nudge the front of the bicycle's tire with his foot. He was wearing the usual ratty sneakers he went out with in excursions, the same pair that he'd worn when they first met.

"I have room for one more person, Misa-san," L said as he got on the bicycle.

"I'm not going with you." She stuck her tongue out at him and tightened her grip on Raito's arm. "I'm going with Raito."

"But as far as rides go, I am much smoother than Raito-kun."

_You wish,_ Raito thought as he mounted the bicycle in one easy slide and waited for Misa, who sat saddle-style behind him because of her skirt. In the corner of his eyes Raito caught the movement of her legs bobbing up and down, the creamy skin glowing in the moonlight. Off to his other side L's white t-shirt glowed as well, a ghostly white that shone like a beacon in the darkness. Raito looked down at his own attire—the deep red of his shirt, the dark blue of his jeans, unable to retract even a fraction of the light spilling out from behind the clouds. Where he was sitting it was so dark that it seemed like a hole had been carved into the space. He was indistinguishable from the darkness around him except for the glow given off by the people around him.

He had not dressed for the occasion of a full moon, Raito thought idly, brushing off the almost-realization by pedaling out into the street, his thoughts fleeing away as he steadily gained momentum, until L skirted out right in front of him—to annoy him no doubt—and then slowed down just as abruptly, so the front wheels of his bicycle were now lined up with his.

"I am beating you."

Raito hadn't even known they were racing. He ignored L and continued to keep his eyes ahead.

"Misa-san, did you see how I beat Raito-kun?"

"I didn't see anything like that," she said indignantly and tightened her grip on his midsection. Then Raito heard her whisper in a conspiring tone, "Go faster so you can beat Ryuuzaki."

"He cannot beat me," L bragged.

At that challenge Raito sped up and suddenly veered in front of L. He smirked when the detective's bicycle wobbled at having to slow down so suddenly.

"You know that kind of maneuvering is dangerous when you have someone with you."

"Then stop doing irresponsible things yourself," Raito replied.

"Like what?" L was behind him now and he was weaving to the right and left, being as distracting as he could possibly be. He came up beside him with his hands in the air. "Look, no hands. Can you do that?"

Raito chose not to dignify that with a response and kept his eyes on the road. He knew how much it bothered L when he didn't pay attention to him, so he really shouldn't have been surprised when L playfully kicked the spooks of his front wheel and sped off, leaving Raito to balance himself out and glare at his back. The detective seemed to sense his ill-will and turned around to smile at him, like a child that had made mischief and knew he would get away with it.

The rest of the bicycle ride was spent with him and L weaving in and out of each other. Speaking had been forgotten in favor of the droning sounds of the wheels and the repetitive motions of pedaling and easing up. Raito had lost himself in the silence of the moment. He could feel Misa's grip on him relax, could see out of the corner of his eye that L was staring ahead at the road and at the same time was looking at something else, something beyond the road and beyond the immediate present.

Raito took a deep breath. The air smelled like wet grass and gravel, and there were so many stars in the sky tonight, more than he had ever seen in his life. Raito looked down at his hands on the handle-bars and then ahead at the road. There was a steep drop that would take them into town, and he stopped pedaling and let himself fall forward toward their destination, like one of those shooting stars in the sky. He went down so fast that it was more like flying than any other mode of transportation.

Raito stopped on the sidewalk and Misa jumped off the back. She checked her purse subconsciously, and then followed after L, who was already heading towards a 24-hour convenience store. But then she stopped, turned around, and came back to retrieve him, like he wouldn't understand to follow them now. Raito wondered if they should just leave the bicycles here on the side of the street—it didn't seem very responsible—but to say anything about that to L was a waste of time if he knew the detective.

The lights in the convenience store were harsh and cheap, and he had to blink to get the glare out of his eyes. It was somewhat comforting to know that convenience stores everywhere, no matter if they were in Japan or England, shared the same deficiencies. It was almost like he had stepped into the convenience store near his cram-school where he would sometimes stop off to buy the occasional magazine or manga. The cashier smiled at him when he passed by and he politely smiled back, which made Misa, who had been engrossed in a poster of some romance movie, grab him by the arm possessively and glare at the unfortunate girl behind the register.

When he and Misa passed by the candy aisle, he saw L with his head tilted and seemingly deliberating between the coveted bag of Toffee and a more festive bag of Smarties. After a second he grabbed both bags, doing away with the illusion of a choice, and then moved onto the other selections with the same grab-mentality.

Raito didn't think it was such a good idea to leave L alone when he bought candy, especially since Raito would undoubtedly be the one carrying all of it in the end. But Misa wouldn't let go of his arm for anything—she was still giving icy glares to the unsuspecting cashier—and pulled him past some of the other customers and over to the magazine stand. Misa reached over for the latest fashion magazine, but then when she realized that she needed her other hand to turn the page, the hand that was gripping Raito, she sighed and Raito was able to shrug her off. He ambled over to the other side of the magazine stand, right across from her—a small conciliation to keep Misa from giving the cute cashier another dirty look—and then began to browse the selection the store had to offer.

There was a London Times at eyelevel, and on the front page, in Cloister Black, was a headline that made Raito stop:

"**Where have Kira and L gone?"**

Raito had the urge to pick up the newspaper and flip to—he checked the bottom of the article where they would say on what page the story would be continued—but then he concluded after a pause that there was no way the article's wild guesses could be more interesting than the truth. The fact that Kira and L were currently in a convenience store in Jolly old England, Winchester, and L was buying candy—buying the entire store for that matter—and Kira was reading the article that posed the inane question in the first place, made him want to walk up to detective in aisle four and shove the paper in his face. He really wanted to share the irony with someone who could properly appreciate it, but his curiosity on other topics of world news made him pass it by, particularly a tabloid next to his elbow that made claims that Kira was none other than the American President David Hoope and his entire Cabinet, who were taking justice into their hands and in quote: "Wasn't it like the Americans to do something so bold and controversial." Raito lingered on the word bold in describing his actions as Kira and he thought he liked the sound of it, though he would have preferred heroic or revolutionary.

He certainly hadn't wanted to turn anyone into his scapegoat, but it probably didn't help that when Raito had been killing criminals, a majority of the crime-lords he had wiped out had come from America.

Picking up the magazine, Raito flipped through it and enjoyed all the wild speculation and pointing of fingers that had nothing to do with the truth. He especially liked how the writer of said article had used David Hoope's biography and all the major instances in his life to show the evolution of Kira. They opened the article with an overview of his younger days as a governor for New York and his unrelenting fight against organized crime, even when he should have been focused on other more pressing matters at the time. From there they bought in testimony from "behavioral experts" that easily threw around the words "unconventional thinker," "potentially dangerous single-mindedness," and the clincher, "misplaced righteousness." Raito found himself rolling his eyes despite himself, so caught up in the article that he didn't even notice when L had come up behind him, not until the detective grabbed him by the waist.

Raito dropped the magazine and turned around to see L smiling at him. He didn't smile back.

"What?"

"Time to go," L said simply. Then he bent down and picked up the magazine for him. He glanced at the cover. "I wonder how you can read this garbage and not implode and suck the universe into the black-hole you leave behind."

Raito snatched it from him and put it back on the shelf. "Are you done?" He glanced down at his arms. Where's your stuff?"

"Up at the check-out line," L said.

Raito gave him a strange look. "You just left it there?"

"Yes, I still need to go buy it, but I do not carry money on me. Misa-san should have my credit card."

"So you just left it with the check-out girl?" Raito asked again. He felt sorry for anyone who had to deal with L for even a second.

"Yes, did you not hear me or were you too interested in reading about the American President and his new nickname?" L picked up a TV-guide and began to thumb through it in that odd way he had. "By the way, I have his number. I prank call him sometimes."

"_You what?" _

"I am kidding," L said plainly. "Not about the number though, because I do have it. Did you not realize it when you went through my database and saw the initials DH? If you call that line they will put you straight through to the Oval Office. It is very convenient when I am in the country and I need the aid of the FBI." L held the corner of the page, turning it. "Oh, and 'Lady and the Tramp' will be showing tomorrow night."

Raito wondered what that had to do with anything, but he quickly came to the conclusion that it was best to abandon that tangential ship and focus on something actually relevant to their prior conversation. "So… who else's number do you have?" Raito asked, suddenly curious.

"More world leaders, boring chaps…" L said distractedly as he continued to thumb through the TV guide. "And unfortunately no celebrities."

Raito was suddenly very interested in hearing L's definition of the word boring; it seemed a bit skewed. "They run an entire country."

"It is not as fun as it sounds, but then again your type of fun has always been on the _dic-tatorial_ side of things," L said, with a stress on the "dic" part.

"Shut up," Raito retorted. "I forget why I even try to talk to you."

L finally put down the TV guide. "Do not be that way. I will give you free reign over my database of World Leaders. You can call them and give them unwanted advice for running a country."

"I already have free reign," Raito countered. "You gave me the entire system months ago. I've deciphered most of it, but there are still some sections that remain in code—your contact list is probably one of them."

"Then I will buy you a country and let you rule over it. Your birthday is in February so that gives me about seven months to internally sabotage the government of your choice."

Of course L was joking, but sometimes Raito couldn't tell because he always had the most matter-of-fact way of conveying himself.

"Whatever," Raito said. He was about to go over to Misa to collect the credit card—L didn't seem very interested in waiting in line and seemed more interested in sending him to do the buying—when the detective suddenly grabbed him by the arm.

"Look at what evil has transpired while we were away from Misa-san."

Raito looked over the magazine stand and recognized the customers he had passed by when the blonde had been dragging him over here. They were three guys, all dressed in varying degrees of scruffy looking jeans and t-shirts. Raito wasn't very impressed as he watched them try to chat up Misa and the blonde tried her best to keep up with their English.

It didn't surprise him to find Misa speaking to them. Her pop-idol career had made it so she was never one to ignore people. Friendliness had been one of her selling points, after all. Plus, she knew how to handle herself in front of a crowd, especially in front of one that mainly consisted of males.

It wasn't hard to imagine that Misa had gotten all kinds of creepy letters from her fans. Indeed, one of them had tried to attack her, and Raito was sure there had been other instances throughout her life that she would never speak of aloud. It was the curse of being pretty and sociable. People loved to take advantage of that. These three were nothing but a small percentage of men that would try to pick Misa up and would end up failing miserably. Raito wasn't blind. He knew that men stared at Misa. He had stared at her when they had first met, and L had checked her out with the same ideas in his head.

"You should do something about this," L said, and Raito turned to give him an indifferent look.

"Misa can take care of herself." The three that were hanging around her seemed to be high-school age. Raito didn't really see them as any threat.

"But Misa-san should not flirt with other boys; she should only flirt with us," L concluded.

Turning to give the detective a dumbfounded look, Raito suddenly wondered what it was like to be in L's head. It must a very confused place, especially with him misinterpreting Misa's annoyance with him for flirting when it was definitely not flirting.

Right?

Raito threw a suspicious glance over at the blonde and wondered if she flirted with L when he wasn't around. If she did then it really was none of his business. Misa could flirt with whoever she wanted and L could do the same. It wasn't like he was in a serious relationship with either of them.

But if he found out that those two were sleeping with each other behind his back, he swore to God he would break up with both of them and make them so miserable that they would wish they had never been born.

Clearing his throat after that bit of unpleasantness, Raito brushed past L and walked around the magazine rack. "C'mon Misa," he called, obviously not in the mood to wait for his chance to politely cut into the conversation, and Misa practically jumped at the command, waving at the boys as they stared at her abrupt departure and what they considered her tyrant of a boyfriend. "Are you coming?" Raito called back at L, too, and the detective smiled mysteriously at him as he left the magazine stand behind.

L hadn't bought as much candy as Raito had thought he would, which was a supreme relief for the person that would have to carry it back home. He thought maybe something was horribly wrong with L, possibly he was sick or dying or something to that effect, but he quickly came to the conclusion that only a meteorite in the sky or a black-notebook could kill L, and anything less powerful would only make him stronger. Plus there was the ice-cream that he had bought and sat down on the sidewalk to eat. Raito didn't think he would be eating ice-cream on the sidewalk if something was wrong with him… well not physically, anyway.

Raito also took a seat on the sidewalk, slowly unwrapping the paper around his ice-cream cone. L was already two-thirds of the way done with his by the time he and Misa started on theirs, which would prove to be a problem later on when L started giving their share clandestine looks and taking "covert" bites out of Misa's ice-cream when she wasn't looking.

"Ah, he keeps biting my ice-cream," Misa lamented and showed Raito the teeth-marks. "Tell him to stop."

"You should not accuse innocent people of crimes when you have no proof to back it up," L told her.

"He did it again!" Misa cried in his ear.

"And again I say where is your proof, Misa-san?" L wiped his mouth as he stood up from the sidewalk. Then he innocuously took up residence next to him; Raito felt L's shoulder bump into his arm. "Did Misa-san ever think that she has misjudged her own appetite? For instance, if I am eating a chocolate mousse and I reach the bottom of my glass sooner than expected, isn't it natural to say 'what has happened to my chocolate mousse?' And isn't it natural to think that someone other than myself has partaken of my chocolate mousse while I was not looking? It is human psychology to blame others for one's own misdeeds, after all."

Raito pretended L had just said something incredibly smart and sexy instead of something incredibly dumb and un-sexy so he could still enjoy his vanilla ice-cream cone, which after taking a lick, he realized… had a big chunk taken out of it.

He turned to look at L… and then handed him his ice-cream cone, because it just wasn't worth it to sit here and rationalize with a person that thought it was okay to eat other people's desert when they weren't looking.

"You are very generous, giving me your ice-cream without any prompting from myself. Misa-san should take Raito-kun's selfless act as an example. I am not so keen on vanilla, but I would like her strawberry-raisin flavor very much."

"No," Misa said and took two big bites of her desert, one after the other, which naturally resulted in a brain freeze. "Owee," she lamented, holding her head in her hands.

"Your delicious ice-cream has put you in a state of distress. I shall help you," L said and made Misa take another big bite to keep him at bay, which naturally (stupidly) resulted in another brain freeze.

"Owee…"

Raito sighed and pretended to not know them.

Individually, L and Misa were quite annoying—sometimes manageable, but nonetheless annoying. Collectively, however, their annoyance level was past tolerable.

Looking at this in mathematical terms, he would even say that there was an exponential factor to their collective annoying behavior. Like, for instance, if he were to depict this moment on a bar graph, with the x-axis representing minutes and the y-axis representing annoying levels, the first bar would be 1 on the annoying scale, and then the second bar would be 2, and then 4, and then 8, and then Raito exploding in a volcano of rage, and so on.

How he had not strangled these two in their sleep—he had plenty of chances—was somewhat shocking to him when he considered how both their lives were major hindrances to his own well-being. He could be a perfectly free individual with these two not here.

Raito stared out at the lot across from them, perfectly dark and perfectly peaceful. The outlines of the store were grayish and semi-visible if one looked hard enough, melding into the darkness like it was a part of the nightscape. The street lamps on their side of the pavement gave off a harsh white color, penetrating all the darkness in and around them; but, though harsh and blinding, a fraction of that light could not even reach the other side of the street where the dark storefront floated, seemingly unattached to its surroundings. Raito stared at it, but the full weight of what he was looking at did not reach his side of the pavement. The profoundness only stayed on that side while he sat on the opposite, gazing at it, not really a part of it anymore. He felt removed from that profoundness, not because he had become terribly different from the person he had been in the past—if he was being honest he felt there was no difference at all—but because there was this immediate presence that would not let him go over to that side. He was still undecided on whether this presence was beneficial or detrimental to him in the long run, as the light on this side of the pavement never seemed to reveal anything but the harsh reality of life.

Raito felt L's shoulder bumped into his arm again. Misa had grabbed a hold of his other arm and was leaning into it and speaking about how mean Ryuuzaki was. Raito looked her dead in the face, their already close proximity made her seem closer, and Misa blushed at him and said he had dreamy eyes, to which L piped up on the other side of him, as he ate Misa's ice-cream, that indeed, Raito-kun did have dreamy eyes. But men who had dreamy eyes could not be trusted.

Misa frowned, shoving Raito's chest back so she could see Ryuuzaki and complain to him, face to face, about how he had ruined a perfectly romantic moment between lovers. L said that he was sorry, and if they wanted to make-out in front of him he would not hold it against them. Misa seemed to lose her nerve at that sentence and settled back onto the sidewalk with a pout.

Not only had silence fled to the opposite side of the pavement, but maturity as well. L and Misa were older than him, but at that moment Raito felt like a babysitter. He would have gotten up and cut this little school fieldtrip short, but his legs remained stationary. It was a strange sensation—to know what he wanted, but at the same time unable to act it out, or possibly unwilling to. He was certain he knew what he wanted. Raito leaned back on his arms and stared at the darkness across from him, contemplating.

L was standing and picking up his bags. Raito watched him as he hooked them around one of the handlebars on his bicycle and turned back around. "I have gotten what I want," he said, "but I am sure that my needs are not the same as yours. So is there something that you want?" L turned to look at him. "Raito-kun?"

"Huh?" Raito said stupidly, startled by the sudden attention.

"Is there something you want?" L asked again.

Raito stared at L as if he'd grown a second head, confused by a question that he'd been asked many times before in his life—when he'd scored perfect marks on his tests and his mother believed he was the type of person that depended on materialistic things to motivate him to succeed; when his guidance counselor looked over his impressive academic records and asked him what career he wanted to pursue; when his dad had pulled him aside one day during the Kira case and asked him, pleadingly, "what do you want to do, son? How do you want to handle this?"

And for each of those questions Raito had delivered a perfect answer: he accepted the gifts from his mother because that made her happy and proved that he was a good son; he confidently told his guidance counselor that he would be the chief of the NPA, putting his fears to rest that one of the best would ever stop being the best one day; and he looked back into his father's eyes and lied like a bastard about how he was not Kira and how all of that would come to light after L had finished his ridiculous investigation.

"Raito-kun?" L said again.

Raito felt Misa shake his arm. "Yeah. Anything that Raito wants to do. Anything and we'll do it."

Raito looked at them, not really knowing what to say next. He was confused as to why he could not provide the perfect answer. It should be simple: he knew them both so well.

"I don't really want to do anything," Raito said hesitantly.

L looked at him for a moment. "I did not think it would be such a hard question. Are you that boring that you cannot think of something fun for us to do?"

Raito felt L hit a nerve. "Shut up," he said under his breath.

"I am not picking on you." The way L smiled said he was so to picking on him. "I am sorry if I hurt your feelings. I will go to Misa-san for ideas on what is fun from now on. Isn't that right, Misa-san?"

"Raito is a lot of fun," Misa said, rushing to defend him. "He's just being nice. He wants us to choose for him."

He wanted no such thing, Raito wanted to say, but ended up remaining silent. L was staring at him with a stupid smile on his face, like he could read the thoughts as they formed in his brain.

"I know!" Misa said like she had gotten an idea. She stood up and grabbed Raito's arm, trying to pull him along. Raito didn't budge from his spot on the sidewalk.

"It's nearly the end of summer but Misa-misa has yet to go swimming," the blonde pouted. "And there's that lake on the way here. The path's not far from the road we take, and Ryuuzaki should know the way."

"Like the back of my foot," L said. "But does Misa-san want to venture into the woods at this time of the night. There is a full moon out, but it will still be dark. Plus I do not think any of us has brought the correct swimming attire." He pulled at the neck of his t-shirt.

"I don't need…whatever Ryuuzaki just said," and Misa began to grin at Raito suggestively.

Raito could have slapped her in the head. "We're not going skinny-dipping in a body of water that's infested with—" God knows what. "We're just not going," he said, and that was the end of that.

"It's quite safe," L defended. "I jumped into it many times during my youth and I grew up perfectly normal."

Raito and Misa turned to stare at L.

Now they were definitely not going anywhere near that lake.

* * *

_A week before…_

Raito Yagami believed, without a doubt, that he was God's gift to women. So L was really not surprised when he found Misa, one summer evening, crying her eyes out. He had come across this situation a couple of days after his own falling out with Raito, and it just proved how little Raito Yagami cared for the feelings of others.

One had to ask themselves how much emotional destruction one human being could leave behind in his wake? Raito was just a boy, about to be a man, and yet he had wrecked so many people in such a short period of time that L was afraid to see what scale of devastation the future would bring.

Misa was seated on the couch in the entertainment room when L came in and he quietly took a seat next to her. He glanced at the kerchief that Misa was using to muffle her sobs—most likely given to her by Raito to stop—and then stared blankly ahead at the television screen, a music video playing, the volume, however, so low that he could barely hear anything.

"Ah…" L started up and then touched his toes together when he could not find the right words to say.

Misa raised her head and stared at him closely, keenly, as if she could sense within him the male presence in all its inconvenient, insensitive glory.

He waved at her.

"Do not mind me; you can go on crying. I will wait until you have finished to ask my questions."

Sniffing, Misa wiped at her nose, straightened a bit, and then rested the handkerchief on her knees.

"So you are done?"

Misa squinted at him and he assumed from irritation until her eyes trembled, widened, and fresh tears welled up.

"So I was wrong," L muttered and tried not to get himself accustomed to that feeling.

"He said…" L's ears perked up as Misa finally spoke. "He said he didn't love me."

L stared blankly ahead but not out of sympathy. Misa wasn't so fragile that a few rejections from Raito would set her off like this. Such words, he had witnessed countless times before, had bounced right off her. He knew she was a confident girl, especially in romance, where years of male adoration had contributed to her positive out-look on love. Misa was confident in her ability to make any man fall in love with her, and L certainly liked that about her, so it was sad to see how Raito was crushing her spirit.

But still there had to be more to the story. And indeed, Misa was not long in clarifying the problem.

"He said he'd_ never_ love me…but we could…still have sex. He just didn't want me to think that it… meant anything to him."

Well, Raito certainly had a way with words.

A precise, completely heartless way with words. L could see why Misa would be disheartened.

It came as no great shock to L that Raito was sleeping with the blonde. He had sensed something was going on the moment Raito became less demanding for the top position. And it wasn't like Raito was hiding it either. Sometimes he smelled like perfume and other times, when L was taking off his clothes, he found lipstick all over his collar. The first time it had happened L had wanted to kick him out of his room—kick him out of the window for that matter—but he sensed he was being tested. Raito was watching him for a reaction, and L was not about to let him think he had any more power over him than he already did.

From the start he knew Raito was not loyal, but he had still sought out a relationship with him. When the worst thing his partner had done to him involved attempted murder, every other wrong seemed to pale in comparison. It made him seem overly forgiving and patient when he was so accepting of Raito's flaws, but both he and Raito knew where this all really led to. Knowing all of a person's worst flaws, especially a conceited person like Raito, put L in a position slightly above the brunette. He knew all his major flaws, knew them like he knew himself, and when he said something about them to Raito he was exercising him own control. It hurt Raito and made him sad—those failures and his knowledge of them—but L saw no other way to win against Raito.

All this had undoubtedly twisted him.

He hoped there was a day when he could tell Raito that flaws were normal. They didn't matter. He loved him all the same. He hated how they fought and constantly brought them up; he hated how _he _constantly brought them up. He thought Raito deserved better, but L thought that he deserved better too.

And sitting here with Misa, he thought she deserved better as well. He could empathize with her, as Raito's swift emotional rejection to her was identical to his rejection of him.

L would never begrudge Misa her true feelings, as she had every right to seek out her own happiness. He also felt that Misa possibly had more of a right to their mutual love interest, as she had laid claim to him when L had only wanted to claim him into the nearest cell. He didn't think these things could be squared away with something as simple as "first come first serve," but Misa had been struggling with her emotions for Raito much sooner than he had. She was due some respect and some consolation, which was something that any discouraged heart would need, if only because L knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of Raito's "tactful" blow-offs. He thought he knew what to say in these situations.

"You mustn't take Raito seriously."

"Huh?" Misa asked.

"I mean, you shouldn't take what he says seriously. Raito-kun is shy and he does not know what he wants." Raito was as shy as a plague and he knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it. But L's words were not there to paint an accurate picture but to make Misa feel better.

"He is playing hard to get. He wants you to chase after him."

"Really?" Misa asked.

"Yes, really"; or that was what he told himself, anyway.

"Oh…I knew that!" Misa said, covering her embarrassment. She wiped at the last of her tears. "I was just…testing, Ryuuzaki. Did it work?"

"You are very good at fake crying. Even better than Raito-kun."

"I'm an actress. I'm supposed to be good at that stuff," she boasted, completely ignoring his last statement. He supposed that Misa only listened to half of the things he said, which did not hurt his feelings any, because he only listened to half of the things that came out of her mouth as well. He thought it was one of the reasons why they got along.

"But I wonder how Ryuuzaki knows that too," she asked, referring to his knowledge of the elusive, man-eating creature known as Raito. She looked at him out of the corner of her eyes with a mischievous grin. "Does he have experience in romance? Oh, does he have a girlfriend?"

"Something like that," L said, though there were really no girls involved. "The person I am involved with does not wish to commit and I am having a hard time convincing this person otherwise, so we remain in a tentative relationship."

"Why doesn't she want to commit?"

"For many reasons," L said seriously. "There are too many to count. But mainly it has to do with our past. I was not good to… this person… and they were definitely not good to me. We had a very big argument in a church."

"You were going to get married and she left you at the altar," Misa said excitedly.

Tapping his bottom lip, L titled his head in thought. "I suppose you could put it that way." There had been an altar in the church… though it was covered in blood by the time they left… and there had been a priest… who had also been covered in blood. L tapped his lip again. "It is a complicated affair. We took some time apart from each other. This person changed back into the person they were before we began our relationship. I told myself it was over and it was better this way, and then after three grand months of strutting around, I slept with this person the first chance I got."

"That's so romantic," Misa crooned.

"It really isn't," L said flatly, as she had just had a run-in with the other half of the relationship he had talked about and it had left her in tears. It was really the farthest thing from romantic. It was hard and it made him want to kick people in the street that did not deserve to be kicked.

"Hopefully, one day I will wear this person down until they have no choice but to accept my feelings."

"You could always secretly get her pregnant," Misa said, with an innocent face of all things, and L gave her a wary look.

"Did I ever tell you, Misa-san, that you are a very scary person to go to for romantic advice? Though I do respect your directedness and determination when it comes to love. You will go to any lengths to be with the person you love, no matter what heinous crime you must commit in process. I think it is very noble."

"I'm not committing a crime if I tell Ryuuzaki to impregnate his weird girlfriend," Misa said, narrowing her eyes at him.

"I was not saying you were," L said, realizing that Raito was not the only Kira that did not like to be called a criminal, even hinting at it was a big No-no. He supposed it stemmed from their unwavering belief that they were pure and could do no evil. They were certainly the worse kind of people to go to battle against, L thought. He was only glad that one of them had forgotten about who her true enemy was and the other was too busy trying to suck the power out of him to worry about other things. It made his life a little easier, at least.

"While I appreciate Misa-san's advice," L continued, "wedlock would not work in my case. I would have certainly tried it by now if it did and thrown a big party with an unnecessarily large cake."

"Why would it not work?" Then Misa's eyes widened in realization. "Ryuuzaki's impotent!" she concluded loudly as Raito walked by the door and halted.

"Oh, does Raito know about Ryuuzaki's condition?" Misa said when she noticed him there, her forgiveness of the man that had put her in tears not even a question of time. "Since he's a boy too, he could probably give Ryuuzaki advice on how to get his mean church-deserting girlfriend pregnant. But only a little advice since my Raito is far from impotent. You'll probably have to go to the hospital for that."

"I'll send him there right now," Raito said, stepping into the room.

"It was nice having this chat with you, Misa-san," L said while jumping over the back of the couch in the vein of self-preservation. "I hope the next time we talk and share things you will be stricken with amnesia right after. Goodbye," L said and dodged Raito on his way to the door, taking off at full speed when he reached the hallway. Raito turned around and took off at a sprint right after him, and Misa did not think she had ever seen Raito run that fast.


	33. For a Brief Moment

"You like the red ones, don't you?" L asked, as he noticed Raito was only picking out the raspberry winegums when he offered his packet of reserve candy.

They were currently seated out on the veranda steps. Raito was waiting for dinner, and L's sole intent for the evening lay in ruining it for him, or, depending on the point of view being taken, showing him the finer points of English candy.

Ever since Raito had come down that one time for dinner, L had noticed he seldom missed out on one of Roger's home cooked meals. But Raito was weird when it came to these domestic situations. Well, not so weird… It was normal for him to sit around a table and eat dinner with others. Until the Kira case had interrupted his home life, for the past seventeen years he had done just that.

When he had resumed this ritual, L had believed compulsion was the main driving force behind Raito's need to carve out a place among the noisier table of Wammy House. But after weeks of watching him closely in this setting, L had come to realize, with a sinking feeling in his chest, that Raito was possibly using this scenario as a means of comfort.

L did not want to think that Raito was lonely or that he missed his family. In the truest sense of the word Raito was a loner. He separated himself from others both consciously and subconsciously. He could socialize with his peers, but never on any fundamental level. Even he and Misa, who had forcibly intruded themselves into Raito's life, who had wreaked havoc on Raito's psyche and had laid claim to large portions of his daily thought, were not welcomed within the inner sanctum of Raito's heart. It was a place that enshrined no actual person, but only sustained a large reflecting pool where Raito occasionally glimpsed through the ripples and bubbles a reflection. The image was never accurate, but always distorted and magnified by ego and self.

Raito was comfortable being alone. L could understand this feeling because his own years of solitude had never truly been sad ones. He'd been content to go through his life without companionship. His work was his passion. He hadn't even thought of love. But once he had met Raito, he had realized how simply amazing it was to have someone to talk to, someone who could understand him and make him feel so many different things.

For all intents and purposes, Raito was his soul-mate. L had never believed in the idea—one person fated for another seemed impossible probability-wise, but he could not explain their strange perfectness for each other any other way. And he had tried.

He simply could not go back to the way he was before he had met Raito. It was sad. That part of his life was closed off to him forever, and no matter what he did, he could never get it back. But Raito was also stuck in the same predicament; he could not go back to his simple life in Japan, more than that he could not go back to the family he had left there.

L did not inquire after Raito's feelings in the matter because, admittedly, he was too scared to hear the verdict. If he asked and Raito confided in him that he did indeed miss his family, then L would feel very sorry for him, and he did not want to show weakness towards Raito when it came to the details of his confinement.

In the end, it was best to not dwell on these depressing thoughts when their time together on this planet was so very short.

Looking for a solid distraction--candy usually did the trick--L shook out a bunch of the wine-gums from the packet and separated out the red ones in his palm. Then while his other half looked on curiously, he uncurled one of Raito's hands and gently, though a tad awkwardly, placed a fistful of candy in his palm. When he was done he silently closed it and returned it to its rightful owner.

"I like the pear ones, too," Raito said when he noticed L only gave him the bitter-tasting raspberry ones.

"Yes, but _I _like the pear ones," L said. "Those belong to me, but you can have the clear ones as they are confused and do not know what they are supposed to taste like. Here." L handed him one of the confused clear ones.

Raito turned the rejected candy over in his fingers, frowned, and then flicked it back at L. It pegged the detective in the forehead and landed in one of the folds of his white t-shirt, where he picked it up and tossed it into his mouth.

"If you keep throwing candy at me like this, I will think you have a crush on me."

Raito rolled his eyes. He reached a hand out for L's packet of candy and the detective moved it out of his reach on some candy-hoarding instinct.

They stared at each other.

"No," L said when Raito made another grab for the bag. He stretched his arm out in the other direction as far as it would go, chucking a little when Raito stretched his hand out too and failed to reach. L brought his arm a little closer, then snatched it away just as quickly when Raito made another swipe for the bag. L repeated this motion several times, because there was just something so special about watching Raito fail—over and over and over again.

"This is stupid," Raito said, feigning disinterest, even turning his head in the other direction; then when L brought the cherished candy a little closer, teasingly, Raito practically swooped down on him, colliding into his shoulder in his rush to reach over his legs and tipping them both over on their sides. But even through the flurry of movement, Raito's fingers had yet to graze the packet even once. L's pale and skinny arm lay mockingly out of his reach.

"You have a problem when it comes to the word 'no.'"

"It's not that I have a problem with it," Raito said, pulling up against L, "It's just that I'm not used to hearing it as a response." He summarily plucked the candy up and away from L and rose from his sprawl, all superior and smug-like. There was nothing in his movements to suggest there had even been a sprawl.

L sat up after Raito. "The only reason you want the pear ones is because_ I_ want the pear ones."

"So," Raito said bluntly, popping a few in his mouth. As mature and refined as Yagami Raito was, there was also this terribly immature and spoiled aspect to his personality that made L sometimes stop and stare. It shouldn't surprise him at this point, but it still sometimes made him do a double take.

"You are a paradoxical and frustrating creature. Give me back my candy."

"Wait," Raito said as he poured out all the winegums from the packet into his palm and began to pick out the ones he wanted. L could not help but frown as he watched the brunette engaged in this highly inconsiderate behavior, especially when he returned all the rejected winegums to the packet and then handed it back to him like that was totally okay.

"What?" Raito said when he noticed how L was staring him down.

"Do you not realize what you just did?"

"Don't pout because I took all the pear ones," Raito said, and then had the gall to unload a few more of the winegums on him that were also not Raito-approved, dropping them into his hand with a distasteful look and commentary about how some fruits didn't need to be made into candy.

"You have desecrated my preserve/reserve candy. It took you less than one minute."

"Aren't they already desecrated? You're supposed to take them out off the plastic and store them in tin-containers for a couple of weeks before you can eat these things. If they don't age a little they taste funny."

L gave Raito another hard look. "Yes, I know, but then I weighed the option of eating them now with the option of eating them three weeks from now, and I have to say I prefer eating them now."

"You should have waited," Raito said before infuriatingly taking the bag from him and putting the winegums in his hand back. "They left an awful taste in my mouth."

"Then why did you eat them?"

Raito shrugged and began to scratch his forearm. "Did you talk to Watari yet?"

"I do not understand how we arrived on this topic when we were not finished with the one before it."

"Are you cranky because I ate your candy?" Raito asked flatly. Then L noticed Raito's line of sight strangely trailing off behind him, and he would have inquired after it had Raito not suddenly reached out his hand and ran his fingers through the back of his head.

"I think you need a hair-cut."

"What?"

"Your bed-head is getting worse."

Haltingly, L reached a hand towards the back of his head, smoothing down the ends. "Yes, well…please shut up." He batted Raito's hand away when he tried to run it through his hair for a second time. "You are being exceptionally annoying today, stealing my candy and then giving me unwanted advice about my hair."

"You're annoying every day. I'm giving you the day off," Raito said, and L would have pushed him off the stairs and face first into the grass if he did not want to be called childish on top of annoying. Eh, he would do it anyway. L lifted his foot to commence the dethroning of one Raito Yagami off the veranda steps. However, he had to stop when Raito turned his body towards him, slumping oddly against the post at his back.

"I'm being serious. Did you to talk to him or not?" Raito asked, rubbing at his upper arm and then his shoulder. It was oddly distracting when one considered Raito's mannerisms; he was certainly not prone to fidgeting. L's eyes left off from the motions of Raito's hands.

"Acquiring a relatively well-known case for you when your alias is unknown will be difficult. You should have been prepared for it to take some time."

Raito narrowed his eyes at him. "You haven't even said anything to him, have you?" It was true. He'd been avoiding telling Watari about their deal because it made him seem like… Well, he didn't come off as very in control of the situation, was all he cared to mention.

"I will tell him when I feel like it," L said, taking up a defiant tone, "And you will be patient and wait."

"You're really great at giving out orders."

"And you are very bad at following them," L replied. Life would be easier if Raito did the things he told him to do. It came off as a bit controlling on his part, but L was used to being in control of everything around him; he was used to giving out orders and having them followed. He was used to people listening to him and not answering back. And while he enjoyed Raito's smart mouth to a degree, and it excited him on multiple inappropriate levels to be bossed around by that smart mouth, he was still the type of man who enjoyed control and exercising that control.

Control was an important aspect of the relationship for both of them. He might seem to have moved on from those domineering and childish sentiments, even maturing in his love for Raito; what mattered was not who had the upper-hand in the relationship, but the feelings they should be sharing with each other. On a higher level of consciousness, where he could see the truth of the matter, L acknowledged those as goals he wanted to work towards. He wanted them to have an equal relationship. But in the more practical side of L's brain, where he drew information from and used to navigate his day-to-day life with Raito, his habits (bad habits, he supposed) still had more sway over his reasoning than any ideals he might strive towards. And his habit was control. He did not care to be bossed around by anyone.

"I am not up for arguing today, so please do shut up. I am tired of you getting your way and then complaining about it. If you must complain about it, then fine, but do not complain about it to me, and loudly, with different hand gestures and such."

"I complain because it's the only way you'll do what I ask. I think it has something to do with the level of my voice. If I speak loudly enough, it actually reaches your ears through the thicket covering it." Raito made a hand gesture that suggested the thicket was L's hair, then went back to scratching his shoulder.

"You really wish for me to get this hair-cut, don't you," L said. At this point he was half-participating in the conversation, as his attention was being directed elsewhere.

"I really wish for you to listen to me," Raito said, rubbing his arm with a bit more force.

L stopped and stared. "Why do you keep doing that?"

"Hmm," Raito turned to look at him. From the direction of L's gaze he realized L was referring to his hand. "I don't know…" he said slowly, a bit of apprehension creeping into his voice, as if he were starting to realize it should mean something. He touched a hand to his throat, swallowing with obvious effort, and his expression turned sour.

"Raito…" L said, worried now. He watched as Raito turned his head to the right, then the left. The candy packet, abandoned between them, was apparently what he'd been searching for, because he snatched it up from the floor, and then did something strange; he was checking the back of the contents label.

Raito placed his hands in his lap. A look of confusion and panic flickered across his face before only the confusion remained and a bit of shock. He turned to look at L.

"I'm… allergic to Tartrazine."

L stared back as if he hadn't heard him right. "Yellow food dye? But there is none in the--" L thought back on the green wine-gums that Raito had been eating unawares a while ago. Secondary food additives were sometimes made by mixing primary colors, in this case blue and yellow, with a greater concentration of yellow to simulate that particular pear color. L felt like putting his head in his hands. "Why was this not in your health records?"

Raito was too busy scratching his shoulder to give him a proper answer, and annoyed at being kept out of the loop, L reached over one-handed and jerked Raito's shirt open at the neck.

Across Raito's chest there were the beginnings of a rash. L's other hand latched onto the top of Raito's sleeve, yanking one side down at the shoulder. L inspected the skin with a worried expression.

"I think I should bring you to the hospital now."

That sour face had come back, the one Raito had worn when he'd figured out it was an allergic reaction, but instead of his hand going to his throat, his hand fixed itself over his mouth.

"I'm think I'm going to be sick."

L grew alert despite himself. "What?"

Raito was already up and running inside the house before L could even get another word in, the screen door banging behind him. L stood up to go after him, but in his hurry he stepped on one of the long, tattered cuffs of his jeans, slipped a little, and ended up hitting his knee hard into one of the stairs.

L resisted the urge to use an explicative or two, since the one he had in mind would be unfair to his birth mother, whoever the lady might have been, and stood up. He hobbled over to the screen door, throwing it closed behind him as loudly as Raito had. He ran into Roger almost immediately after entering the house, his former caretaker muttering about banging doors and how he would like to bang some childrens' heads together if they kept this racket up.

"Your phone--give it to me," L said without providing any explanation. When he held it out to L, the detective snatched it from him and scrolled through his phone-book to find the orphanage's private doctor.

"I see Mr. Wammy has still not bothered to explain to you when to use the words 'please' and 'thank you.'" L tossed the phone back to his former caretaker after he was done memorizing the number.

"He has also neglected to teach me about romance and what to do when someone you care for tells you they wish to vomit, but I still manage," L said, running off towards the stairs and then taking them two at a time.

Roger stared after the young man and had to wonder why it was that the things that came out of L's mouth never made even a shillings worth of sense to him. It had to be a generational thing.

* * *

"Raito-kun, please let me in," L said, and tapped on the bathroom door with his finger. He could hear Raito dry-heaving in an attempt to throw up the allergen, and his tapping finger turned into rapping knuckles against the wood-grain. "Raito-kun," he called again, this time with a sigh and an unfamiliar imploring tone of voice that he did not even know he could use, much less possessed in the first place. He waited for a moment, listened to the sounds of Raito coughing, then dry-heaving, then coughing some more, before he banged on the door with his fist.

"It would greatly upset me if you died while I was still locked out here."

Something thudded against the door, rattling the frame, and L assumed Raito was now throwing things…which could be considered a good sign; it meant he was not that sick if he still had the energy to get annoyed.

"May I come in? You are not well and should not be expected to be alone. I can call the orphanage's doctor and have her take a look at you, give you something for your reaction."

L heard something like 'go away;' he had only picked up on it because of the echo in the bathroom.

The detective thought about what should be done in this situation. He wondered if he was the right person to handle the sick, considering he had no experience in caring for anyone in this capacity. Should he call Misa-san for help? Maybe she would know what to do. "Do you want me to call Misa-san?" L asked, feeling that offering a wider selection of alternatives might appease Raito. "She is a nurse, after all."

"She dressed up as a nurse. It's not the same damn thing," Raito said, still remarkably finding the time to argue with him even while he was trying to throw up. But that was just a testament to how much Raito liked to argue with him…or possibly how annoying he found L to be at this exact moment. L took a second to process that info before he knocked loudly on the door again.

"I dressed up as a paramedic, but that does not mean I did not know what I was doing."

On the other side of the door, L heard Raito make a sound of pure frustration, which to anyone who had never heard Raito's version of it before, would have seemed like a growl and a whimper. It was a strange sound that always excited him for some reason.

"You are being unreasonable by keeping me out here," L said, and pressed his foot against the door, testing its give by the creaking sounds it made. He was sure there was a paper-clip lying around somewhere that would allow him to open the door without any problem, but it was a relatively old door and L did not feel like going through the hassle.

Drawing his foot back, he slammed it into the meeting place between the door and wall with a measured kick and the door creaked open, L walking through it with a polite excuse me and closing it the best he could behind him.

Raito was kneeling in front of the toilet bowl when he came in, one of his hands braced against the seat, the other held against his chest. There was a sheen of sweat covering his forehead, and when he looked back at L he looked utterly miserable.

L gave him a sympathetic look. His natural response to Raito was never to feel sorry for him, mainly because Raito was a bastard and to feel sorry for that type of person was not conducive to making them any less of a bastard. But not right now. Right now Raito needed someone to help him. He was weak and ergo very vulnerable, and L liked the idea of Raito weak, because he was always such a strong person.

He might ask L to do things for him, for example he had asked him to give him a detective alias of his very own, but there was always this implicit command within any of Raito's so-called requests. Raito was way too prideful to ever ask for something without thoroughly mind-fucking with him first. He'd rather trick people into giving him what he wanted rather than just…ask for it nicely. Having the upper-hand when he asked for favors was what he did best.

Weak and ergo vulnerable Raito was not something he was particularly celebrating, but he could see the benefits. And they looked suspiciously like a bar of soap. No, that was just what Raito had picked up to throw at him to get out—L ducked the deadly albeit sweet-smelling missile and it hit the door with a thud.

"You have some serious anger issues," L said as he picked up the dented soap. Maybe he had spoken too soon when he'd labeled Raito as weak and vulnerable. Maybe weak, but still very pissed-off.

"Just leave me alone. I can throw-up by myself."

"Yes, but it is not as fun for me," L said, and met the glare with a goofy smile. He knew he was making Raito angrier, but it wasn't like Raito could fight back now. And if he did try, L would have fun with that too.

"Do you want me to hold your hair back for you?"

That earned him something fierce in the glare department. If looks could kill…or more accurately, if looks could still kill…

"I'm really not in the mood," Raito said and sat back on the rug, holding his head in his hands. L dropped to his knees as well and put his hand on Raito's lower back, done with messing around.

"Do you want me to call the doctor?" he asked, rubbing circles in the small of Raito's back.

"No, I just need some time to get over this. Let me sleep it off."

L's hand stopped. "You…wish to sleep it off? But it is an allergic reaction. You should be given medicine."

"It's not life-threatening—it's skin irritation and nausea. It's nothing that time can't fix. Plus, I really don't feel like seeing a children's doctor."

"I can call someone else," L offered.

"I don't feel like seeing a doctor period," Raito added, and then as if that would be the final word on that, he stood up from the floor, albeit a bit unsteadily, and dragged himself into the other room. L turned his head in time to see Raito fall across his mattress, without concern as to where he ended up. He curled onto his side, pillowing his head on his arm, and closed his eyes in a commendable attempt at sleep.

"Raito-kun…" After watching Raito for a few minutes, eyes closed and head pillowed on his arm in a 'I'm sleeping right now and there's nothing you can say to make me stop' position, L gave up any argument that he might have and began to climb into bed with him. He'd gotten as far as putting a knee down on the mattress and one bracing hand down next to Raito's head before one of those amber eyes opened. Through the slit L could see Raito observing him coolly.

"What're you doing?"

"I am trying to lie down next to you, but it is hard to do so with the way you have positioned yourself."

"No," Raito said, as if that should be enough to dissuade him from taking this course.

"No, what?" L asked, and stood up from the mattress. He gave Raito's prone body an assessing look before he hooked an elbow under one of Raito's arms and a hand around his waist, and then dragged him to the head of the bed in one fast pull. Raito did not even get the chance to squawk his indignation, but he did cuff him in the shoulder rather hard afterwards. L kicked him in the shin and all was forgiven.

"What kind of psycho hits someone who's sick?" Raito muttered as he tried to get comfortable after being moved.

L shrugged since he was not a psycho and therefore this question didn't apply to him. "Move over." Raito gave him an annoyed look as he fixed his pillow to his liking. L did not wait for Raito to make himself too comfortable and climbed into bed with him. There was a brief but fitful struggle when L eased closer and Raito realized what he was doing. However, it ended when L shoved Raito back down to the mattress, and the brunette, not up for anymore physical activity than that, stayed there, watching him. L eased onto Raito, an eye towards not startling him and starting the conflict back over again. He wrapped an arm around Raito's back, rested his chin on his chest, and then closed his eyes for a restful second.

"You make a very nice pillow," L said, breaking his own silence. "I am glad you gained back your normal weight; I do not think it would be as comfortable if you were bony and not filled out in the right places."

"Then you must know how I feel with you lying on top of me, painfully skinny and full of sharp bones," Raito said with a patient sigh. He tried to roll over, but L pressed down on him, stopping his movements.

"I am not that thin, but I know my body does not have as much cushion as yours, my well-fed angel cake."

"Don't call me that ever again."

L raised his head from Raito's chest. "Do you feel better now?"

"Does this look better to you?" Raito said, trying to push him off. L knew how much Raito liked his personal space. If he intruded into L's personal space the brunette never batted an eyelash over it, but if Raito's own personal space was threatened in any way, he usually became very annoyed very fast. It was another one of Raito's double-standards that made L want to kick him.

"It does not matter," L said, and rested his head back down with a contented sigh. That got Raito trying to shove him off again, but L quieted that by holding his wrists down. There was another brief struggle, followed by a strangely comfortable silence, before L raised his head and asked: "Why did this not show up in your medical records?"

"Mmm." Raito was staring up at the ceiling with an unfocused gaze. One of his hands rested on the small of L's back. He did not look entirely put out by the situation.

"Raito-kun," L called again, determined to not let the other sleep.

"I don't know," Raito snapped, suddenly very awake, which was why L supposed he'd snapped. He paused for a moment, appearing to give serious contemplation to L's question. "I guess the hospital made an error when they sent my records over to the new one; we moved when I was three and Sayu was born to the house we live in now."

"From Tochigi prefecture," L said, as he had read Raito's files from front to back. At some point he had felt he knew Raito even better than he himself did, but that had been a false sense of knowing, he realized now. Files missed things, as he was being shown here. Raito had read up on him as well, from the case-files he had provided. They had both done their research, but it still had not prepared them for each other.

"Dad had solved a number of high-profile cases and the commissioner had thought his talents would be needed elsewhere, so he was relocated to the Tokyo division. I stopped having reactions after we moved, so everyone assumed I'd grown out of it."

"Children grow out of some allergies," L agreed.

"But, I wonder why it came back?"

The answer came to L before he could even prepare himself for it.

Before L had come to the orphanage he had recuperated at a hotel in Russia. For the first few weeks Raito had been put on an IV drip. The prolonged bouts of starvation had left his body weak and unable to hold down his food. It was painful to watch, even from afar.

Raito had lost more weight than anyone his height should ever lose, and it had decimated his immune system. The wounds on his back quickly became infected, and he slipped in and out of fevers for many nights. His body had gone through drastic changes, and so things that he could have fought off very easily once became a problem for him in his weakened state. Even past issues with his health were now cropping up. And Raito was still recuperating. The infection had not let his wounds heal naturally. He still sometimes bled through his bandages. However, he never showed L his wounds, so the detective did not know their exact state and what would become of them. And Raito was perfectly content to leave him in the dark.

L rested a hand on Raito's lower back, far away from his bandages. "Your immune system fell apart during your incarceration and…" L felt ill-equipped to continue on. There was really no way to prettify his explanation when it all simply boiled down to 'the torture screwed you up.' But he did not need to continue, for Raito had guessed the gist of it from his pause.

L was waiting for Raito to push him away; he would not fight him on it this time. The part of his brain that was not preoccupied with solving cases and being the best thought he deserved it. He would not take any of his decisions back from that time because it was his job, and he had been doing his job, and getting the coordinates of that Death Note were more important than whatever problems he and Raito had with each other. But he also would not kid himself, his torturing Raito also had a lot to do with the fact that he didn't want to lose. He didn't want Raito to win.

He had tortured him out of spite, because Raito had hurt him so very badly and he had wanted to hurt him back. Justice had gone to the wayside. At that point he simply wanted Raito to feel how much pain and misery he had brought into his life—a life that before that had been rather painless and uneventful.

He'd thought it was so bloody unfair. He'd found the one person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and yet they did not want to spend even a second in the same room with him. It frustrated him, and he'd become a little unstable during his months in Russia.

But he loved Raito, make no mistake, even when he hated him he loved him so very much, and despite all that he had tortured him.

There was no excuse he could make, or no words he could say to make it better. He would have to live with that for the rest of his life. He would have to live with Raito's hatred for him.

He'd been something of an intolerable ass these past months at Wammy. For some reason he expected Raito to recognize his feelings for him, expected him to even respond to them, even in small measures, give him some type of encouragement because he…deserved it. And when Raito had not, when he had done the exact opposite, when they'd had that awful fight over those three little words, it made him angry and confused and hurt all over again.

The fact that he wasn't being given a chance by Raito annoyed him. A part of him still felt he deserved one. As if it was his to have. Like he'd hurt enough and bled enough that he could rightly claim it. It was like solving a case that he'd practically killed himself over and not receiving the appropriate compensation.

He didn't really take Raito's feelings into consideration.

Raito had every reason to doubt the genuineness of his words; he'd been able to torture him after all. If that was not a good enough reason to doubt someone, then L did not know what was. None of his confessions mattered to Raito, and why should they, if L took a moment and thought about it rationally. Raito had made it clear; he did not love him. There was no way around that. L could not argue his side and somehow change Raito's mind. It would be the same as all those months of going in and out of Raito's cell, arguing with him about right and wrong, about justice, about why his actions were evil and L's were not.

Just as they could not see eye to eye on justice, they could not on love. And the only thing L could do was love Raito and be there for him. And that was it. If Raito pushed him away now, then that was his choice—a choice that L would not like—but he would respect.

He would leave now, but be back later. Raito would probably forget he'd been angry and try to make up with him over sex. And the only thing L could do was be there for him.

"I should have expected that would be the case," Raito said, surprisingly casual about it. His hand remained unmoving on L's back, while his other hand lifted out of sight and rested on the back of his head. Like he'd done out on the veranda, L felt fingers brush through his hair once, then twice, before they stopped and started back over again.

"How absolutely stupid." L wanted to note the tired humor in Raito's voice, but he was thoroughly distracted by the way Raito was combing his fingers through his hair, the motion not unlike the shushing of an unruly child who asked too many questions. L blinked his eyes open, feeling them close despite themselves. He'd made himself so comfortable on top of Raito that it was difficult to fight off any approaching cat-naps.

"What is stupid?" L asked, in an effort to stay awake.

"You," Raito said, deflecting his question without any serious intent. "Your personality. Your randomness in conversation topics. Your hair." Raito turned his head towards his bedside table and reached out for one of the books lined in the small shelf area under the table. "I'm going to read now. Go to sleep." Raito rested the book at the base of L's neck, propping it up against the prominent knob of bone there, as if that were its intended purpose and he was only being practical by making use of it.

It had come to L's attention that Raito had been a much more romantic person when he'd been trying to kill him. Now he couldn't care less about things such as mood or sex appeal. But the fact that Raito didn't bother with masks in his presence was certainly progress. It didn't feel like progress though.

"Sleep."

L glanced up at Raito through his bangs, which had grown out considerably since last year and were now of a more shaggy quality. "Why must I sleep when you are wide-awake and reading?"

"Because you'll annoy me less that way," Raito replied.

L rested his head back down, feeling Raito's chest rise and fall with every breath he took. On occasion, one of Raito's hands, when they were not turning a page, would find its way into his hair. It made everything that much more soothing, so L felt he could not be blamed, when two minutes later, he'd fallen fast asleep.

* * *

L woke up an hour later with a cramp in his injured leg. He rolled off Raito, who had rolled the other way, and then shuffled off to the bathroom with a yawn.

Passing by the mirror, L caught a glimpse of his reflection and came to a stop. He fingered one of the overgrown ends of his hair and could not help but come to the conclusion that he was in dire need of that hair-cut Raito had been championing earlier. Well, it wasn't like he didn't know how to do this for himself.

Pulling open several of the bathroom drawers, L eventually came across a pair of scissors. He set them on the counter and then pulled off his shirt, tossing it over the shower bar. Then with the curtness of a business deal, he collected his hair into a messy ponytail, picked up the scissors, and lopped off the ponytail in one go. Because this was Raito's bathroom, he didn't want to leave a mess behind, or not an obvious one anyway, so he kicked the hair under the nearest rug. Raito would clean that up for him when he found it.

L was dusting the back of his neck when his cell-phone rang. He thought about not answering and making Raito wait that much longer for his alias, but then he was feeling generous all of the sudden. His mood had improved considerably since that nap.

"You have good news for me," L said, as he picked up.

_"It was easy to secure the Benelli case for Deneuve. But the client for Coil refused our estimate, so I waited two weeks and was contacted today with an offer to revive negotiations. They wish to apologize for their hasty dismissal with a gift."_

"And what would a gift from the esteemed Ataullah family go for these days?"

"_Five million riyal. I accepted, but they are easy to blackmail in these circumstances, and it would not be completely unexpected from their side since they know who they are dealing with. We could request additional compensation for our services. However, I would prefer if the young sir handled the negotiations. It would give him time to acclimate himself to his new role."_

"The young sir," L said, mocking Watari's title for Raito, "will most definitely bitch-slap me back to France if I ask him to blackmail a client. Why do you wish for my unhappiness in this way?"

_"Shall I assume you have not explained all his duties as Coil?"_

"You know as well as I do that he knows them. That is not the problem: it is his 'conscious.' He feels it is wrong to negotiate the way we do, and I am tired of arguing with him about it. For now, you will take over negotiations for Coil." L paused, getting ready to get to the heart of the matter. "There is also something else that I need you to take care of for me. I feel it would be in the best interest of everyone, would require less hassle for me and so forth, if Raito-kun were to be given an alias of his own."

There was a long pause on the other end. L discerned from that long pause that Watari's bullshit detector had sounded the alarms for a level fiver. An example of a level fiver would be when he had told Watari he was only sleeping with Raito to solve the case. Why would he have any interest in…icky criminals, he had reasoned. Raito's combination of brains and beauty were just…yuck.

"You wish to give him an alias of his own?" Watari's question was reduced to background noise as other noises from the bedroom started to come to his attention. Footsteps approached the bathroom, and L moved to push the door close with his foot. He returned to his conversation, and was only able to get in one word, before Raito barged in. However, the brunette's trip to the sink was arrested mid-way when his eyes finally lighted upon L.

"What the hell did you…" Raito walked around to his left. "L, what did you do to your hair?"

"Can you hold on for a moment?" L covered the receiver. "Yes, Raito-kun, what is it?"

"Your…" Raito made a helpless motion towards what he supposed would be his head.

"I thought you wanted me to get a hair-cut. I agree that it was becoming unmanageable."

"Yes, but…" Raito walked over to his right, "Did you close your eyes and then decide to cut it?"

"No…they were quite open." L reaffirmed his grip on the receiver of his cell. "What do you mean by that? This is how I always cut my hair."

"No wonder," Raito said in awe, circling around to his left again, like he was some strange animal that needed to be dissected and examined. He picked up the scissors from the counter, hopefully lacking the intentions to seriously dissect him, and then grabbed a towel from the bottom cupboard. "Come here."

"I am on the phone right now."

"Hang up. Tell Watari you… I don't even know how you did this." Raito narrowed his eyes at L's head. "Did you…just grab the back and—" the brunette made a cutting motion.

L ignored Raito and walked past him so could continue his conversation.

"I am back. As I was saying before, he is not at all suited for Coil and Deneuve, and to have him take over their personas would be a disaster waiting to happen." L turned in Raito's direction in time to see him spread the towel on the ground. "They are simple and materialistic, and he is complicated and motivated by strange things that I do not want to ever wrap my head around." Raito rested a chair down on the towel and L turned his back to him. "He will not want to conform to the profiles on Deneuve and Coil, and will take liberties with their behavior in money matters, especially for Coil. Clients will notice this."

_"He appears more professional than you are suggesting."_

"You do not have to deal with on him a daily basis, so of course he appears more professional to you."

"I can hear you," Raito said, as he grabbed L by the shoulder. He pulled him back to sit in the chair.

"I do not care," L replied, forgetting for one moment that Watari was still on the line.

_"Is the young sir there with you right now?"_

"He was, but ah, too bad, you just missed him."

Watari actually sighed on the other end. _"Let me talk to him."_

L tried to turn his head in Raito's direction to mouth 'go away,' but the brunette snapped his head right back to face front, an aggravated sound in tow. "This is going to look even worse if you don't stop moving around, and I'm being serious here. I'm not going near you if you have bad hair." Clipping noises began to fill the silence as L kept his head very still and at the same time tried to give the phone to Raito.

"He wishes to speak with you."

The snipping noises stopped. Hair was collecting in one spot on the towel. It was only snippets, but it was starting to form a small pile. L wondered if he should be worried.

"He wants to talk to me?" Raito gave the cell a wary look, and then took it from him. While Raito was distracted, L thought it was a good idea to escape before the rest of his winter-coat was on the floor. But Raito appeared to have anticipated his plans because he grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back into the chair. Holding the phone in place with his shoulder, Raito continued to cut his hair.

"Good evening to you as well. Fine, thank you. Yes. I can't say there's anything I lack for, but I appreciate your asking."

L rolled his eyes as Raito went on in this manner for another minute. Raito was Japanese proper and Watari English proper, and so he should not have been surprised that pleasantries tended to drag on.

"No, she's fine," Raito continued, and walked around to his front. "I'll tell her you asked." Raito rested a knee between L's legs, bending over slightly so he was more level with him, and then started to snip away at the hair in the front. "Hmm. Yes…well…" L's ears perked up as he heard the hesitance in Raito's voice. He tried to pull the brunette into his lap, but Raito batted his hand away. "He…takes very good care of us, and I'm not sure how to answer when you put it like that." L really had to know what those two were talking about now. He pulled at Raito's waist, and the brunette, too preoccupied with what was being said on the other end, did not fight him this time.

"It was his own decision." To make himself more comfortable, Raito rearranged himself in his lap sideways and wrapped an arm around his neck. "I made some suggestions. We had many discussions about it."

"If by discussions you mean we yelled at each other for two straight hours then yes, we had many discussions." Raito glared at him, but his attention quickly returned to the phone.

"Again I'm not sure what you mean by that, sir.

"We get along just fine, but you understand how he can get sometimes." Raito nodded. "Mm. It's like talking to a brick wall."

"Give me the phone, Raito-kun," L said as he refused to be insulted when he was sitting right there.

Raito raised a hand, signaling that he was far from done. "I'm sorry and this may sound rude, but I don't think that is any of your business. I will take your words into consideration, but this is solely between me and L. He is…good to me, and I will try to live up to the expectations he has for me as a business partner."

The expression on Raito's face caught L off guard. It wasn't that it was much of an expression, but it was the eyes when he said it; the corners softened a bit, so the ennui that made the pupils regularly unfocused, or the irritation that made them sharper than a knife, had not disappeared, but had been mixed up with another expression, a gentler one. The abundance of love and hate that Yagami Raito carried around in his chest—all the warped love that had compelled him to create a new world, all the hate that had compelled him forward with equal force, seemed to settle for that one brief moment, like a churning liquid that needed to stop or else spill from its container and exist formless forever more.

He stood up from L, switching the phone to his other ear and returned to making pleasantries with Watari, as if to apologize for his previous terseness, all the while cutting L's hair; it was as if nothing had ever changed between them.

"What did he say?" L asked when Raito hung up.

"You should be able to guess," Raito replied. "He came right out and asked me if I was sleeping with you. Unfortunately, I'm starting to see where you got your bluntness."

"I wonder why he thinks we are sleeping together," L said pensively. "I thought I was being very sly about it. Do you suppose I was not sly enough?"

"I don't think it's that," Raito said, walking around to his front. "He thinks we're sleeping together because he simply doesn't trust me. He thinks I'm manipulating you," Raito said and chuckled, "like I'm the bad guy in all this. I understand that he's looking out for your best interests, but you're not the one being manipulated in this scenario."

"Did he say anything else?" L asked, as sometimes it was best to ignore the strange and wonderful things that came out of Raito's mouth.

"He told me to behave myself," Raito said.

"He lectured you?" L could not help but smile. "How embarrassing for you, and how bold of Watari in thinking you would actually listen to a word anyone has to say."

"Oh no," Raito conceded, "I'll listen to what he says. I'll behave myself, whatever that means."

The smile on L's face wobbled. "W-what do you mean you will listen to him? I tell you to behave all the time and you tell me to go straight to hell."

"You don't walk around with a briefcase full of chloroform and a detachable sniper rifle. Plus, he asked nicely."

L stared at Raito grumpily.

"Do you want to know what else he said?" Raito asked, suddenly in a better mood.

"What?"

"He said he should have everything worked out by December. And that he feels you should start back in January. Did you two agree on that beforehand?"

L nodded. About a year and a half had passed since the public had heard anything of Kira, and when next January came around it would be a year since the task-force had heard any news of Kira. It was L's intention to have the public forget the Kira case or at least have it become a dim memory before he started to work on a new case, not that the public would ever again be privy to any investigation he worked on in the future. And hopefully there would never be such a crisis that he would have to reveal his presence to them.

"So, we're leaving here in January?" Raito asked.

"On January the first," L specified. "We should at least start the year off right this time," and the moment those words left his mouth, L had regretted them. He was not completely unaware of the fact that he could be insensitive as a block of concrete sometimes. It was one of the reasons why he had not been able to make friends when he was growing up. Between his gift for lying and his completely unapologetic way of speaking his mind, he was always offending someone. His problem was that he either lied too much or he was too truthful, and many of peers had found that kind of behavior unsettling. He'd never thought to change that aspect of himself. He would have liked friends, but it was not so important to him that he would have ever sacrificed a part of himself for it. But staring at Raito now as his thoughtless words sank in, as he saw the shiver of emotion that he so frequently denied Raito because of his past, it made him want to change. It really made him want to.

"Ah…" L lowered his eyes.

"You don't need to be troubled about it," Raito said. When L raised his head Raito was looking at him openly, without hostility or even the slightest animosity. He'd have hated it if Raito was forcing himself to be polite to him, but it wasn't forced politeness that was staring back at him. It was, oddly enough, a resigned acceptance. Raito expected him to put his foot in his mouth sometimes and he yelled at him a lot for it, but this time, this time—

"It's fine. You've said much worse. Though it would be nice if you wore that remorseful expression every time you did. I'd probably have sex with you more," he added, wiping the scissors on his jeans. He walked off to return the scissors to their drawer and L was left with the feeling that he had honestly been forgiven and that Raito was making fun of him.

"I shouldn't be so quick to forgive you, but I've always suspected you might be a little, you know, so it's not really your fault, even though I still think it is and that you know better."

Was it just L or could that be any more vague or make any less sense?

He gave the window across from him a confused look. If Raito were in his line of sight and not in the bathroom then he would have given him that look. "What are you talking about?"

"Huh?" Raito said from the bathroom. "I thought you knew. Plus, it's not like it's a secret. Everyone on the task-force thought you were that way too, and then there's here. I heard…well it's not important. It doesn't matter if you're a little autistic, that still doesn't explain your awful personality."

L turned towards the bathroom with a wide-eyed look, which considering how wide his eyes already were, he thought it considerably conveyed his amazement. "Autistic? You think I am autistic. I am not—and who did you say you heard this from?"

Raito shrugged. He had his back to him, so L could not see his face. "Does it matter? Your IQ is ridiculous."

"But I am not autistic," L repeated, and then, frowning, "at least I am not allergic to food coloring, particularly that one. Did you know that children who are allergic to Tartrazine possibly suffer from a compulsive disorder?"

L heard the faucet turn on. "I don't have an obsessive-compulsive disorder, you know that." Raito switched off the faucet and dried his hands in L's shirt, which was conveniently still hanging over the shower bar. He looked into the other room. "L?"

"Yes, my slightly obsessive-compulsive buttercup."

Raito tried his best to ignore L's pet-name for him, as they were only getting stranger, and if he did not ignore him now it would only encourage him in the future. "Are you allergic to anything?" Raito asked.

L nodded with a serious look on his face. "Yes, stupid people—why do you think I was always sending Matsuda out of the room. He is bad for my skin."

Raito chuckled. "Yeah, Matsuda was stupid." It was possibly the only thing they had ever really agreed upon—Matsuda's idiocy. Raito smiled, eyes lowering.

"L?"

"Hmm?"

"Why is there a pile of familiar black hair under the bathroom rug?"

L remained silent as he had not expected Raito to find it that quickly. Though looking on the bright side of things, it was as good a sign as any that Raito would make a fine detective.

"L, seriously?"

**

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A/n: Sorry for unnecessarily long wait, but writing these chapters have become very difficult for me. I think a lot of people who write have this problem, where they have all these things they want to cram into one chapter and yet it's hard to put it all together without it seeming like a big old mess. You have to find the right balance, and I don't think I accomplished that here, so I've been very unhappy about this chapter and I didn't want to post it. Ah, let's see, I'd also like to mention that there will be two or three more chapters before I finish this story. I'll definitely try to get it out faster than this one, so I should be finished by this year. Oh, and this chapter has been betaed by my friend Lewd Concubine. All bow to Lewd Concubine.


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